Reflection in the Sword
by Ikuko
Summary: A new revised edition, should be easier to read and understand
1. Mulan

Reflection in the sword by Ikuko  
  
Part one: Mulan  
  
She was on pins and needles all evening. Li Shang was tongue-tied all the time during the dinner, and now he was locked with her father, for the second hour straight. What in the world they could have discussed for so long? She was hoping it was she. He DID come after her, she was sure that the helmet was no more than an excuse. Her heart was fluttering; she could not find a place for herself. Only if this was true. If only the reason he locked away with her father was to ask for her hand in marriage.  
  
He was the bravest, most noble and handsome man she had ever met. He could have any beautiful girl he wanted. Now, she liked THAT thought much less. Any girl, which means any nice, well-bred noble girl he would fancy. She suddenly realized that she was no longer an eligible bride. No self- respecting man would ever consider a soldier, even the most famous one as a suitable match.  
  
What in the world were they talking about for so long?! She crawled a little closer to the outside wall of her father's room. She did not mean to eavesdrop, not consciously, she just had to get closer. They were talking quietly. Only a few words reached her: "breach of tradition" voiced Shang, "proper behaviour" murmured her father.  
  
Gods! She felt such terrible shame. Well, they WERE discussing her, all right. Her disgrace, that is. Sure, she brought her family honour - as a warrior. Now she was her family's burden until the rest of her days. She disobeyed the traditions; she was no longer viewed as a girl to be married. Her father knew it, Shang knew it, what else was there to be discussed?  
  
She will serve her parents as long as they live, and take orders, become a nun. There was no other way for someone like her. She fulfilled her duty as a soldier, but the war was over. No one needed a soldier any more. She was just a misfit now, a girl not suited to be a bride.  
  
Tears were burning her eyes, threatening to spill any moment. The voices of the two men dearest to her softly, almost sadly talked over her future. She knew they both cared about her, but there was nothing anyone could do.  
  
Anger flared briefly in her chest: Shang, how dare he! Wasn't she humiliated enough? Yes, he was her commanding officer, and a great one at that; he was concerned about his subordinates. But this was above and beyond the call of duty!  
  
She was no longer in the army, it was her life, and she could deal with the consequences of what she had done. He had no business butting in!  
  
The voices were a little louder now.  
  
"I think this is reasonable," said her father "I will try to arrange an appointment with a matchmaker at the nearest lucky day". Did her father go crazy? To put her on the bride market again? After the last year's fiasco?! With her scandalous fame?  
  
"Are you expecting difficulties?" asked Shang  
  
"Well, last time she was not much impressed with Mulan. She is a very old fashioned lady. Now, considering the events of the past months... Though, with appropriate incentive, her memory might fail her conveniently"  
  
"I am sure, I have enough influence to... apply necessary pressure, if needed..."  
  
Tidal waves of humiliation almost knocked Mulan off her feet. She covered her face with both hands, and ran blindly, anywhere, just to get away from them. So that was their plan. To bribe that horrible matchmaker, to marry her off to some gullible villager... And oh-so-honourable Shang will sure assist in the scheme. He did not kill her on the Tang-Shao, now he will ensure her future as a properly married woman. She'd rather die. She felt betrayed by the two men she loved the most.  
  
She stumbled on her run, and fell in the tall grass and did not attempt to get up. It seemed she lied there forever, crying her heart out, until there were no more tears left.  
  
The noise of the passing cart intruded in her sobs. She was near the street, hidden from the sight only by the flimsy screen of grass. She did not feel like moving. She could stay here all night, and no one would notice her.  
  
People were passing so close to her, she could hear bits and pieces of conversation. The war was over, soldiers returned home, the mood was happy; people celebrated the return of peaceful times in the village. Her name was mentioned again. "Listen!" she ordered herself. If you think that what Shang and your father said was bad, see what strangers think of you.  
  
There was no malice in the voices. They were light, conversational.  
  
"She is a great hero, you know"  
  
"Yeah, they say she brought home a medal and all"  
  
"...an honour for the village"  
  
"she'd be better off if she'd think more of her own honour"  
  
"slept her way to the top"  
  
"he, he, you know, the lass with all the soldiers... sure they loved her"  
  
She swallowed her tears. She faced the enemy; she could face the gossip. She did it for her father. She had put her life on the line, and she did not lose that life. She could still smell the grass, see the stars. She was alive - but was it worth it? She was a war hero - she was a dishonoured girl.  
  
What were her choices? Most tempting one - to run away, to find a place where no one knew her, to pretend she was a war refugee and start her life afresh. But her parents will be broken hearted. They were old, and she was the only child. She could not just leave them like this. She dealt them enough grief by leaving last year. They did not deserve another sorrow.  
  
Or she could refuse to deal with the matchmaker and insist on staying with her parents forever - and become a nun after they died. She knew that her father would be unhappy to hear that, and she was not willing to hurt her father again.  
  
Her only other choice was to comply. To play the dumb, obedient girl. To try to fit in. To help them with the pretence. To sell herself to whatever poor sucker the matchmaker could find for her. To be a good wife to the unlucky bastard, and to uphold the family honour.  
  
She had played rebel long enough. She will do her duty this time. They want her to get married? She could do that. After pretending to be a man for a year, pretending to be a wife should be a snap.  
  
She knew by now, she was in love with Shang. It did not matter. He wanted her to marry someone else? If it will ease his conscience, she will do it for him, even if it will kill her. She was a soldier, she had the honour, and she knew how to obey orders.  
  
She was more miserable than she had ever imagined a person could be.  
  
She did not remember how she got home, or when. She knew she was weak. It would be so much better, oh, so much better, to slip in her room unnoticed, to avoid Shang tonight. He would be gone soon enough, and she would never have to cope with the torture of seeing him again, facing his patronizing generosity and pity. There would be nothing said between them again - oh, so much better.  
  
But no. The pride of the warrior deserted her in everything concerning Shang. She waited just outside of the house, ashamed of herself, but waited. What did she hope for? She did not know. But when he finally appeared in the doorway, she came to him, like a beaten dog begging to accept her loyalty.  
  
"Shang..."  
  
"Mulan! What are you doing her so late?" He did not expect to see her so late, but he did not seem to be upset. Mulan rushed on the stumbling words, as if to protect herself:  
  
"Don't... You do not have to do this!"  
  
"Do what?" he choked out  
  
"I heard... you and my father... About the matchmaker..." she was stumbling over the words, unable to utter a coherent sentence.  
  
"That's the only proper way, Mulan. Your father agreed with me. To restore the image of the proper daughter, you should be very careful and follow all the traditions. It's not so bad. You are a soldier, Ping. Look at it as just another drill. I know it's silly, but you have to put up with it"  
  
his voice was gentle, as if he was comforting a small child. Of course, no one would take a woman seriously. No one would even think she has her own wishes and ideas.  
  
"Don't try to help me, Shang..."  
  
"But... Why?" his surprise puzzled her. Didn't he understand how much he hurt her pride in his attempt to save her face?  
  
"You should not trouble yourself... I will be all right... Just go... No! Wait! Can we talk?"  
  
"Mulan" his voice wavered "Mulan, I promise I will do my best for your happiness. Your father is a sensible man; he chose the best course of action. All will be well soon, Mulan. But... you know, we should not be seen together."  
  
She cowered in humiliation "We both have family honour to uphold, you and I. I know you are a ma... woman of honour" His face was unsmiling, eyes intensely on hers. "Good bye, Mulan" He turned away and started toward the gates. His scarlet cape was almost black in the darkness, washing away, dissolving in the night.  
  
Her foolish, foolish heart was breaking, wrenching the words that should never be said out of her lips.  
  
"Don't go. I love you, Shang... I always have..."  
  
she did not believe she actually said something like this. Now she really disgraced her family - but that was not the worst. She offended and embarrassed him.  
  
She saw him stop, shoulders rigid in the dark. He heard. He almost turned back to her, but then changed his mind and resumed his pace. No, there was nothing left to hope for. What was she expecting? She was not fit as a wife, and he will never take her as a concubine. She was neither woman nor man, neither soldier nor bride. No, she was a soldier. She will face it, as she had faced Shang-Yu.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The following week was a nightmare for Mulan. Overcome with the shame, she did not want to see anyone. Her parents worried about her, but how could she explain? There was no way she'd admit she eavesdropped on her father's conversation with Li Shang, was there? She had to pretend that she knew nothing, was afraid of nothing. She resumed her daily chores, but was still reluctant to go out of the gates. The words of the villagers were still ringing in her ears.  
  
How could she meet eyes of all these people? But she could not hide forever. Grandma sent her for errands once, than again. People she met seemed polite, at least when she could hear them. It was not so bad. She could do it.  
  
A few days later, Mulan's dreadful mood was somewhat distracted. Right in the middle of the market, she came across Ling and Chien-Po, of all people!  
  
Well, as it happened, it was not much of a coincidence: the trio got some leave from the army on the account of the peace, and were on their way south to visit the temple Chien-Po had grown up in. Her village was not too far out of the way, and there was no way they would pass through without visiting an old friend. Mulan suspected that the visit to the temple was no more than pretence, but was happy to see them anyway. After the first happy greetings Mulan noticed that the trio was for once not complete:  
  
"Where is Yao?"  
  
"Dunno." Answered Ling "He was with us this morning, but said he has some business in town. So we went ahead to find you. How ya doing?"  
  
"As well as can be expected, I guess" She did not feel like elaborating, but the gang had already a whiff of the local news  
  
"Umm, yeah. We heard in the village. Who is the lucky guy?" asked Ling, grinning from ear to ear  
  
"The sucker? Have no idea. Some fool or another, it makes no difference. No one is asking the bride, you know"  
  
"Come on, Fa Mulan. You are not just any bride!"  
  
"All the worse. They have to hide who I am to con someone into marrying me"  
  
"You are kidding, Mulan. Any guy would be happy..."  
  
"It's you who are kidding, Ling. And you know it"  
  
"Mulan, honestly... if only you would... I'd be happy, in a moment..."  
  
"WHAT?! Are you proposing? You are a great friend, Ling, but a terrible fool. Are you seriously thinking about ruining your life like this? What would your mother say?" Mulan was actually touched by Ling's sincerity  
  
"It won't work" a new voice drawled from behind her.  
  
"Yao? You are back?! Where have you been?"  
  
"Had the same stupid idea as Ling over here. Could not stand the thought that you will be just shipped out to some hack from nowhere like a stack of hay. Went to the town, had a chat with that cow of a matchmaker of yours"  
  
"You are crazy. You offered yourself? Well, I did not even know you cared"  
  
Now she felt almost like crying. First Ling, and now Yao! Who would ever think that the guys that maid her life so miserable in the beginning would prove to be such great friends!  
  
"I do care. At least, I am your friend. Better then some pretty boy I know" drawled the surly short fellow  
  
"Don't"  
  
"I know. Anyway, the answer is no. I do not fit the rank"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"It's the crest. You are the cavalier of the crest of the Emperor, which makes you one of the highest-ranking military figures, even without official title. I am just a private. No go"  
  
"Bad news" Ling scowled.  
  
"No, it's excellent news! Don't you guys see? You do not have to sacrifice yourself! I will be just fine! There is no way they can con anyone as high as that! I will be able to remain with my parents, without disgracing them much. It happens, some girls can not find a husband! That's a beautiful set- up!"  
  
"Don't get too happy. I have a feeling they have something in mind. I thought I better warn you"  
  
"They do? Oh, well. It was too good to be true, anyway. To the matchmaker we go, then"  
  
Still, it was a comfort to have them around. They laughed and talked about the days past, trying to forget the gloomy future Mulan faced. If they could not help, at least they were there for her. They were, but Shang wasn't.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As they say, it was déjà vu all over again. Except this time Mulan was on time for the appointment with the matchmaker. And this time, she was alone. No other brides were showing off their painted faces and fine clothes.  
  
There were other differences, more subtle. Mulan, though dressed with the same care as the first time, was not nearly as fidgety. Nor did she look as pretty: her hairdo was one disastrous attempt to hide her shorter hair. It grew some in the past couple of months, but still was too short for the elaborate style of the proper bride. But who cared? It was all a farce anyway, and she knew it. The matchmaker was bribed to swindle the spoiled goods to some hapless fool, her part was simply to go with the flow.  
  
She was surprised, however, at the matchmaker's behavior. It was clear the older woman disproved of Mulan. She was, however, nearly dripping with sweetness. She wasn't trying to find a flaw in the potential bride now. Right, the flaw was obvious: she was a soldier.  
  
Mulan was amazed to see the matchmaker actually instructing her how to be a proper bride! Silly woman. Mulan got enough instruction from the female members of her own family. If that did not help, she was a lost case.  
  
Yes, the matchmaker definitely had someone in mind. She was too concise in her advice, and talked in too certain terms for a woman with only a vague idea of the future match. Mulan was not going to make it any easier for her.  
  
"You are not afraid I will spill the tea on my future in-laws, this time?"  
  
Matchmaker was visibly uncomfortable, but lowered her gaze  
  
"General has no parents"  
  
"GENERAL?! Are you saying you've got a general and he agrees to marry someone like me? You could make a better deal with some rich man's daughter"  
  
personally, she would rather settle for a certain captain. But she had already learned not to wish for impossible.  
  
"I certainly could have. She would probably make a better wife, too. I have no choice. You were requested as an only candidate for a bride."  
  
"Why would he do that?"  
  
"May be he has as little choice as I do in the matter. I heard it was the highest order"  
  
"You mean, Emperor ORDERED his general to marry a girl no one else would want?"  
  
She thought she was impervious to any more pain, but this slap in the face got to her. Sure, Emperor was a nice old man, but what a foolish nice old man. Looks like Shang had more influence than she gave him credit for. When he said "do his best", he really meant the best.  
  
General, eh? It could be worse. He must resent a wife that was forced upon him, but that did not bother her much. On the opposite, it pleased her. She will not have to see him too often. There are always pleasure girls for men as important as a general. She will have to bear very little of his attention. Besides, she served in the army long enough to know that the youngest of the generals is at least as old as her father.  
  
No, not too much attention. He must be rich, and his house must be large. Alone, in her own quarters of an official wife, her life will be as good as any. Better. Maybe, the general has children from the previous marriage, she can become friends with them. No, not likely, they might hate a stepmother. But she could deal with that. Hate was better than the unflinching, emotionless expression she saw on Shang's face when he had said good-bye to her.  
  
All right. She marshaled her attention back to matchmaker.  
  
"so, this is all decided, then?"  
  
"You could say so"  
  
"When the first letter will be sent?"  
  
"You do not understand. The letters have been sent already, and information about the birth dates was exchanged."  
  
Matchmaker dropped information piece by piece on Mulan, watching her expression warily.  
  
"The stars position was found favorable for the marriage, so the General, who has no family of his own personally sent groom's presents to your father. Your family and the General agreed on the dowry, and the final exchange of letters was completed."  
  
Mulan's horror grew with every word the matchmaker uttered.  
  
"Then what am I doing here, if everything have been done already?!"  
  
"You are here to be betrothed. The General is in the next room"  
  
"What? Can I speak to him?!"  
  
"Of course not!!!" the indignation of the matchmaker was genuine.  
  
"You know perfectly well that the bride and the groom are not supposed to see each other until wedding night!"  
  
And she did know that. Then again, it would not change a thing, so it was just as well.  
  
She submitted to the ceremony unfeeling, without even registering in her mind what was going on around her. The whole thing was mercifully short, and before she knew it, she was surrounded by her mother and grandma, and escorted home.  
  
Betrothed! She could not believe it. Her life was about to change, and she had no control over it at all. She felt like an object, an item of furniture, sold and about to be delivered to a client.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
In the meanwhile a great care was taken to have her in best possible condition for the customer. She was locked in the secluded room at the back of the house, where she was to spend the rest of the days before the wedding. Every smallest detail was conducted in the strictest observation of the traditions, as if nothing was wrong with the bride. What a laugh!  
  
A few of the girlfriends she had were invited to stay with her, crying over her leaving the family and cursing the matchmaker according to the custom. You can not say that there is nothing good about the tradition. That particular part she enjoyed. In fact, she cursed the matchmaker with such gusto and expert knowledge of the terminology obtained in boot camp that other girls could only gape at her in astonishment.  
  
She was hoping the gang would find a way to communicate with her in her solitude. But they seemed to disappear all together. One of the girls was even willing to search for them in the village. She seemed to take a liking to the gentle giant Chien-Po. Unfortunately, she could find no trace of them. Rumor was that the general's attendants ordered them away.  
  
The news did not improve Mulan's mood any. Her future husband sank in her opinion a couple of notches. Such jealousy was so silly! It was strange, though. She could not imagine Yao backing off on command. But the fact was, they were no longer around.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The dreaded day finally came. She was surprised to find herself almost relieved. Then again, she knew that the anticipation of the battle was worse than the battle itself.  
  
She was positively exhausted, waiting to know what this fate held for her. There was nothing good to expect, but the suspense was killing her. She needed to know why the Emperor would treat the man great enough to become a general in such cruel a manner. Did he fall out of grace? Did he commit a crime of some kind? Was it a personal revenge of some sneaky member of the Council?  
  
She did not have any hard feelings toward her husband to be. She could not possibly hold a grudge against the man who was clearly as much a victim in this case as she was.  
  
The girls were at last enjoying themselves. The ceremony of bathing and dressing the bride was the most exiting part of the whole thing. These days they had to spend alone with that strange girl soon to be married to a general were difficult for them. She was a soldier, and nice girls are not supposed to be with the soldiers. What if some of her scandalous fame rubbed off on them? Emperor was not going to hand high officers out to marry them, too. The girls were happy that the embarrassing stay in Fa house was nearly over.  
  
The dress was brought in, and the women began to work on the face make-up and the hairdo of the bride. Her shining black hair grew back a bit more, reaching her shoulder blades and the suntan had faded from Mulan's face.  
  
She no longer looked like a boy soldier. Still, her glance was too open, and her words too straight for a bride. She would never make a proper shadow-of-her-husband wife.  
  
Dressed in red dress and red shoes, with so many red beads adoring the outfit that it was heavier than the armor, Mulan bowed to her father one last time. The covered palanquin from the groom's house was waiting for her just outside of the gates.  
  
She could not say good-bye to Khan. Yesterday she prayed to her ancestors in the family chapel, and Mushu awakened to awkwardly comfort her. Re- installed as a family guardian, Mushu had to stay with the family. Yet she had a friend with her. Cree-kee, the luckiest of bugs will follow her to her new home.  
  
She wished she could see the most important ceremony of her life a little clearer. But the red scarf obscured her vision, and all she could rely on was her ears. She could see nothing but shadowy figures moving around her, chanting prayers. The large form of her groom by her side, and the floor under her feet were all she could identify around her. The goblet of wine was pushed under the curtain of the scarf, and she took an obligatory sip that sealed her marriage.  
  
She knew her new husband's lips had just touched the same cup, and her heart flinched at a thought of the stranger by her side. She would trade the distinguished general by her side for a certain captain in a heartbeat.  
  
She squashed the thoughts of Shang firmly. It was impossible for them, and he obviously did not want her. She was a married woman now, and she will honour her husband. She was not angry with Shang, it just... hurt.  
  
She tried not to keep thinking about him. Which, of course, meant she had to abandon thinking all together. Everything reminded her of Shang, even the wedding ceremony itself. Rice in her bowl - "you will pick up every grain!"... fish - fishing with bare hands as part of the training... Horse - the thunder of the Khan's hooves and the prone body across the saddle... blade - a sword risen in the strong hand, the fire of anger at her deceit in those beloved eyes...  
  
Tears were sliding from under the crimson scarf, but it was all right. The bride is expected to cry during the wedding. All traditions have been observed. Her family and her new husband will not have to be ashamed - at least not of the ceremony.  
  
Her new home was in the capital; naturally, the ceremonial palanquin was not suitable for such a long trip. She was deposited in the travel carriage in all her finery and the whole party drove off in the same haste. She longed to peek out of the window at the fields of her village she might not see again for a long time, but with that damned scarf it was useless.  
  
The trip took hours, her fatigue caught up with her and she fell asleep, lolled by the monotonous swaying of the carriage and rattle of the horse hooves. In between dream and reality, she felt trapped; the confined space of the carriage, the crowd of the riders, servants and retainers surrounding it... She would be happier to ride to the capital on the horseback... That was another thing impossible for her from now on. Not ever... never...  
  
The abrupt stop in movement woke her up. They arrived, and she was eased from the carriage into the large front garden. In the dying light of the day, through the murky crimson of the scarf she could make out the outline of the large house. Apparently, that was her new home now.  
  
She steeled herself against the unwanted thought of the coming night. Why did you do it to me, father? Shang?  
  
There it was. She was seated on the decorated bed in the large bedroom, next to her new husband, and forced herself not to hear the crude jokes his friends were making as the tradition called for. From his grunting in response, she knew he was not too happy about all of this either. They were in the same boat, she could sympathize with him. Maybe he was a nice man. That would make her life easier. But not much.  
  
Finally, the guests were leaving. She did not know whether to be relieved or scared. The ceremonial part of the wedding was over. Now was time to face the real thing. She must be able to take it as a soldier. But when the hands of her new husband reached to lift the crimson scarf from her face, her heart contracted painfully. Like a coward, she closed her eyes. 


	2. Shang

Part two: Shang  
  
The steady trot of his white horse lulled Shang into a half-dreaming state. He reflected on the past year with marvel and satisfaction. There was a lot of grief, and a lot to be proud of. Beyond any doubts, it was the most fascinating year of his life.  
  
He was not quite sure when all that began. Maybe it was on the day they received the imperial orders. They stated that the main troops were supposed to move to the mountain ridge, to protect the capital from the north. That meant that the older warriors, the brave, seasoned soldiers he came to regard as his family, were about to leave the camp in the middle of the drafting campaign. He did not care about the arriving rookies much, but the prospect of getting in the real battle was exciting.  
  
The General had punctured his enthusiasm, though. He explained with the great patience how he planned to move the forces, and what route he selected to reach the mountains. But he wished his son to stay behind, and train the new recruits. That was a bummer. He was dreaming of the quest for glory, hand in hand with the elite regiments of the Imperial army. Instead, he was supposed to baby-sit a bunch of country bumpkins who did not even know how to get on a horse.  
  
Father had a consolation for him, though. Shang was left as the commanding officer of the newly recruited regimen, and received a new rank. A captain! There were very few men who achieved such a high rank in such a young age. It was a great honour. And, as any great honour, it caused jealousy around him.  
  
Chi Fu, for starters. That paper-bug never liked him, or his father. Chi Fu was not fit to be a warrior, but was always worming into the best forces, hoping that some of the fame of victory would rub on him. Chi Fu was going to make his life as an officer as difficult as he possibly could.  
  
Shang was so elated by his promotion, so proud of his new rank, he did not care about Chi Fu. He was somewhat upset that his father was leaving with the elite forces; but he hoped to deserve his father's trust. It would be tough, but he was going to create a new elite regiment from those boys! The finest in China!  
  
He had to interrupt his daydreaming to see his father off. The fine white stallions of the pride of Chinese army thundered through the camp and disappeared in the curves of the dusty road.  
  
Shang felt suddenly lonely, like a little boy left alone at home for the first time. He grew up as a soldier; he spent most of his life in camp, but he always had senior officers to lean onto if needed. Now he was alone, except for Chi Fu. But that man would more likely be more burden than help.  
  
His first experience with his troops was worse than he expected. They were no soldiers. They were just some village bullies ready for a brawl, not for battle. They were as unkempt and unorganized as he ever saw people to be. As soon as he got out of his tent, he saw the kettle of rice overturned, and most of his new soldiers involved in the fistfight.  
  
He had to yell his first orders in most undignified fashion to make himself heard. On his enquiry who started the brawl, all pointed at the smallest and the most innocent looking young boy he had ever seen in the army. The boy was clearly scared out of his wits, and curled in the fetal position on the ground. How in the world he could cause the all-camp fight, was beyond Shang.  
  
Well, that was getting interesting. Now they sent children to the war! China must be hitting some hard times, if this was the best he could get as a recruit. What next? Babies? Women?  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"I've got a name, and it's a boy's name, too." The boy muttered, apparently trying to remember.  
  
A funny boy. thought Shang. Was that any way to answer to an officer? Was he so scared he forgot his own name? Some soldier.  
  
Finally, the name was successfully recalled. Ping. The boy happened to come from the most honoured military clan!  
  
Shang could not believe it. Captain Fa Zhou was a famous warrior, friend of his own father. How come he never knew that Fa Zhou had a son? There were rumours that he had a beautiful daughter, but nothing about the son. Strange. Usually men boast of sons, not daughters. However, there it was, the conscription issued for the Fa family.  
  
Still, Shang had to ask:  
  
"I did not know Fa Zhou had a son"  
  
the boy seemed to shrink a little under his scrutiny.  
  
"He does not talk of me much." he offered weakly  
  
Illegitimate son, maybe? By a concubine? Resented by the main lady? Fa Zhou was known as a serious, solemn man, and deeply in love with his wife. He was not the type of man who would have mistresses. However, the boy was right here, in front of him, making some pitiful attempts to behave "like a man". Gods, it will be more difficult than Shang had ever imagined.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
His premonition was proved to be true in the following days. They seemed to be cursed by a chain of failures. The soldiers were an unruly bunch of scruffy village guys, with no idea what military discipline was all about. They obeyed the orders grouchily, were messy and slow to learn.  
  
Four of them were the worst. One, a short guy with a shorter temper, the most obnoxious Yao was seeking self-gratification in defiance of Shang's authority. Yao nick-named him a "Pretty boy", and was cracking disrespectful remarks every time Shang turned his back.  
  
The other one was skinny Ling, a harmless fellow really, but the laziest Shang had met in years.  
  
The docile giant Chien-Po was simply too slow for the military, though his unbelievable strength and peaceful nature won him lots of friends.  
  
The threesome were always together, best buddies and worst soldiers, united in the picking on the forth disaster of the camp, the infamous little soldier Fa Ping.  
  
That one was just too young. He was eager to learn and trying really hard, but had neither strength nor stamina to become a warrior. The gang of three played quite a lot of mean jokes on poor boy. He was obviously hurt by such unexpected enmity, but never retaliated.  
  
The boy was quite isolated, he did not mix much with other soldiers. He even avoided them at night, and lived a tiny tent of his own. He was such a helpless child in boot camp.  
  
As the shortest in the regiment Ping was always on the far end of the row of soldiers. Shang could not help but to glance his way once every so often. Maybe it was awe and admiration in boy's huge dark round eyes that made Shang press even harder, and work at his best. He admitted to himself that he was showing off for the boy a little.  
  
Off training time, boy was just as unhappy. Once after the sunset Shang walked upon Ping deeply in conversation with somebody invisible. The boy thought himself alone, unaware of Shang nearby. Shang was intrigued. What is it he was talking to? A short piece of red ribbon? Why would a boy talk to a ribbon?  
  
Taking a second look, Shang saw that it was a stuffed animal, a little red dragon. Must have been a talisman from home. Shang remembered when he got his own toy dragon for the fifth of May. that Ping, he is such a child yet, still playing with toys. Poor boy, he must be really lonely among the rude soldiers.  
  
Shang saw the toy dragon yet once more. During the training on the mountain crossing Ping fell under his burden. The boy was too exhausted; he could not even carry the light weight. But next to his elbow there was the little red toy dragon, sneaked on the training when the weight was so critical. Shang was so touched by Ping's childish innocence;  
  
he only frowned at him and picked up his load to carry up the hill.  
  
Why was the boy here on the first place? The whole purpose of their fighting was to protect the children like Ping, not to expose them to the murderous horror of the war. Shang made a decision. The boy must go home. He might run into some trouble for his attempt to save the child by sending him away, but he did not care.  
  
That evening Shang confronted young Ping. He picked up the reins of Khan, and shoved them in the face of the boy.  
  
"You're unsuited for the war, so pack up, go home. You're through"  
  
the boy's face expression was genuinely hurt. Shang could only hope that Ping will be too consumed with his troubles to see trough Shangs lies. Of course it was sheer bull. If he would begin sending soldiers home because they are unsuited for the war, he would have no army to fight with. No man is ever born for the war. If being a bad soldier would be a ticket home, half of his troops will be gone right away, and the rest will be competing for the title of the laziest bum around.  
  
Thankfully, the boy was too young and too idealistic. He took Shang's scolding at face value. He went away, his head bent, shoulders slumped, feet scuffing the ground.  
  
Go, little soldier, return home and have a chance to grow up. I will answer for sending you away, but your blood will not be on my hands. I will miss you, child. Grow up to be a brave man, like your father, maybe then we'll meet again.  
  
Shang saw the boy turn to glance at the tall pole in the center of the camp. On the very first day of training Shang planted an arrow on the very top of the pole, and ordered soldiers to retrieve it with heavy weights tied to their wrists. The task required more skill than he could teach the boys by then. The arrow stayed in the pole, reminding everyone of the long way yet to go. It was too much for him to watch the boy looking at the arrow as if some symbol of his failure, an unattainable goal. Shang turned on his heels and walked to the tent.  
  
Next morning Shang was surprised by the sounds of joyful greetings in the camp. He stepped out to see what all the commission was about just as the arrow landed at his feet. What he saw made him happy and sad at once: a small, tired, slouching figure was sitting on the top of the pole, with the weights over his shoulder. Ping figured out how to beat the challenge, all by himself.  
  
"Oh, Ping" muttered Shang, touched by the valiance of the boy "You, stubborn little devil. OK, you win. You can stay. But I'd much rather have you safe."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Finally, things were looking up a bit. The strenuous training was beginning to pay off, and the unkempt villagers were starting to look like real soldiers.  
  
What had surprised Shang the most, was that little Ping was shaping out in the best soldier of all. Sure, he was small, untrained and awkward, but at the same time he was ready to learn and most promising. Besides, he was the only one with brains in the whole camp.  
  
Ping had that cute habit to nod happily and repeatedly when he got what was explained to him, and never was skeptical and lazy like others. Teaching him was always a pleasure. His fighting skills were also much better by now. Little wonder, considering the illustrious family he was coming from. Though still not really strong, Ping knew how to turn his weakness into advantage. Flexible and agile, he was a formidable opponent in sparring. But his strongest point was his quick wit that let him to come up with crazy, brilliant solutions. Too bad he was totally incapable to comprehend the meaning of "impossible". One day it would get him in trouble.  
  
Yet, Shang had to admire his ability to take problems as possibilities, obstacles as challenges, his own weakness as a tool to outsmart the opponent. Ping was getting along with others now, and was gaining some respect.  
  
For the longest time Shang could not understand why the little soldier occupied so much of his mind at the time. The thought of the boy felt like a warm smile. He was different, all right. He was so gentle, patient and kind, not like any other man he ever met in the army. Maybe that was because he came from a good family and must be spoiled. Well, if he is, he is spoiled in the good way: a proud, able boy. Fa was the most respected family. And this boy will be the best achievement of the noble clan.  
  
Ping was a rider, the only one in the camp other than himself. The boy was truly part of the horse. Khan was a huge black steed, but Ping sat so naturally. His mounting is a single fluid motion and on full speed he defied gravity. There was a special bond between the horse and the boy: Shang saw him more than once running to his horse for comfort; probably the black steed was the only piece of home the boy had, and Ping was taking painstaking care of his huge four-legged friend. In response, Khan seems rather protective of the small soldier.  
  
Well, Shang was getting rather protective himself. His amusement with boy's antics was mixed with almost father-like pride. Somehow Ping found his way in Shang's heart. Ping was such a sweet boy: light figure with a bit rounded bottom, fine bone structure of the face, noble countenance and good breeding. He would be very handsome one day when he grows up. His figure would become taller and wider; his face would lose this graceful, almost feminine roundness of lines.  
  
In fact, if he'd meet a girl with a face like this, with such dark eyes full of mischief, he'd be in some danger... These soft lips, so ready to smile. Shang knew every smile of Ping and had categorized them in his heart. There was a piqued smile of interest, and an open grin, and a tight smirk that oozes the sweetest poison. And then a quirky grin in friendly banter, a happy smile, an embarrassed baring of the white teeth. Not to forget a victorious beam after overcoming a challenge, and a crooked smile when he had outsmarted the opponent and was in complete control.  
  
That last one was one of his favorites, along with the wistful look Ping was wearing right now. They were seated around the campfire that sent a warm glow on Pings golden skin, underscoring the tender blush on peach-like rounded cheeks. Ping had no facial hair at all, just how old was the boy?  
  
Soothed by the roar of the fire, Shang was dosing right there, in the middle of the camp. He heard soldiers slowly getting up to turn in for the night, but he was too deliciously relaxed to get to his tent just then. There was a pleasant dream at the edge of his sleep-hazed mind; he did not want to force it away. Gradually, he slipped in the land of dreams, so happy, so untroubled.  
  
There was a golden-skinned girl, slim, so lovely. her face was familiar, it was the face of Ping, with his quirky grin. Soft lips, silver laughter, shimmering dark eyes under heavy lashes. Ping's small frame fitted so perfectly in Shang's arms, his kisses were sweet beyond belief. PING! Shang woke up in horror, realizing that he was dreaming of a boy as a lover! He jumped up, and run to the stream to cool his sinful body, wash away the terrible dream.  
  
He was not like that! He knew some men loved young boys, but not him. He was never attracted to a man in his life! He had his share of women. It was a pleasant experience, though not as exiting as some praised it to be. Then, again, the women he was with were such empty-headed dolls. He could admire their beauty, just as he admired a flower - one moment, to be forgotten in the next. Was he wrong? Was he a boy lover deep inside? It did not seem right. He thought about other boys he knew. No, he felt nothing at all. Only Ping - or, rather, if only Ping was a girl.  
  
That was a nice thought. One day, he would find a girl like Ping. Witty, bright-eyed, lively girl. And he would win her. That would be right. Not Ping - the girl. Ping had a sister what if she was a lot like Ping? No, siblings were never that much alike. Besides, the existence of a girl as bright, opinionated and sweet as Ping was impossible. No way.  
  
Shang just could not accept that he was so dirty. What would his father say if he knew that his son was a pervert? No. He would fight it. At least, for the pure and innocent young boy he will overpower this degradation. He will stay away from Ping, avoid the pleasure of his company. will not look at him, if he can help it. Ping would remain as one of the soldiers, maybe a friend one day. He would love him like a younger brother and avoid as an enemy. Maybe one day he would have a son like Ping, as intelligent and stubborn, with that girl he invented.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
For the next few days Shang managed to stay away from Ping, more or less. The girl with the face of Ping was now a sole subject of his dreams, but at least during his waking hours Shang had come control over his thoughts. He saw that Ping noticed a change in his attitude and tried to figure what he did wrong. It was killing Shang to see how the boy was trying to make up for whatever was his imaginable fault. But it was for the best. He would only have to restrain himself a little longer, soon the training will be completed and the soldiers may be sent to different regiments. If he will just hold on a bit more, Ping will be safe from his degradation.  
  
Shang was trying to cut the remaining time of training as short as possible. He actually attempted to talk to Chi Fu, explaining that the boys were ready for the war. Of course, all he got from Chi Fu was a bunch of insults. Shang could not stand it much longer. Chi Fu could not possibly understand. Shang rose angrily and walked out of the tent.  
  
Sure enough, Ping was right there, fresh and pink-faced from the evening swim. Somehow he heard the last words of Chi Fu "they are no more fit to be soldiers than you fit to be captain." Ping seemed to take it as a personal offence. He even offered to hold Chi Fu for Shang to punch! Poor, naïve boy. Shang only shook his head and moved away from the temptation. Still, he heard Ping saying shyly:  
  
"for what it worth, I think you are a great captain"  
  
Shang's heart was wrenched by such innocence, such pure heart. It worth a lot, my sweet boy, more than you'd ever know. Strangely, this incident helped him to find strength to fight his demons. Maybe he was perverted, but at least he had chosen as an object of his unspeakable passion the purest soul and the brightest mind he had ever met. He would find the strength in that; he would never betray Ping's innocent trust.  
  
That very night a letter arrived from the General. Exited Chi Fu forgot everything he just told to Shang. They were moving out. Finally, the boys from the boot camp were becoming real soldiers, ready to join his father in the battle.  
  
The travel brought some degree of variety in the regiment life. They were on the march most of the time, passing through the beautiful country they were sworn to defend. Soldiers were tired, but Shang welcomed the fatigue. It distracted him from the thoughts of Ping during the day, and his sleep at night was too heavy for dreams most of the time.  
  
He got more accustomed to the boys. They were all right, after all. Even Yao and his buddies were not so bad. A weird bunch, but OK. Always ready to crack a joke, to lighten the mood. He could see them becoming good friends sometime, if they would survive this campaign.  
  
In the early pre-dawn hour, Shang woke up with a start. He had another dream, almost forgotten already; only Ping's soft hands, sweet lips lingered in mind. It was yet too early to get up, but sleep had left him completely. Uncertain grayish light crept in the narrow opening of the tent flap; voices of the first birds, still unsure and weak, were  
  
greeting the coming sunrise. There was no point in trying to get back to sleep, in less than an hour he will have to give the rising signal to the entire camp. Maybe a quick dip in the lake will clean up his head a little from the constant confusion he had about that stubborn little soldier of his. Besides, in this early hour he was sure to have the lake all for himself.  
  
He had always loved early mornings. The fresh dump smell of the grass reminded him of the fishing adventures he had as a boy, back in his father's home. Soft earth of the forest path silenced his steps, so that the walk seemed unreal, like floating through the morning fog.  
  
He reached the lake a few minutes before the first rays of the sun touched the treetops on the nearby hill. The water was glistening between swirling wisps of fog like polished steel. The dark shadows of the trees, ghostly outlines of the reeds through the morning mist in the first silvery light created a sight of unearthly enchantment. Shang had to remind himself why he came here on the first place. He shook off the magical eerie charm of the lake and got to the task of bathing. Shang tossed his clothing on the branch of the tree and stepped in the water, still faintly-warm from the heat of the previous day.  
  
The swim was so pleasant that he was deliberately prolonging it, enjoying the cool water flowing over his skin. Sun had barely touched the hilltop, and the lake was yet hiding in the silent mystery of foggy darkness. It was so quiet, he could hear the fish splashing water on the other side of the lake. So peaceful. so easy to forget everything about war, Huns, camp full of soldiers.  
  
The sound of the splash repeated from the same corner of the lake. Must be the best fishing spot somewhere there. Maybe he should take a look. They are staying here for another night; he might take the boys fishing.  
  
A few quiet leisurely strokes brought him closer to the spot he thought the sound came from. There was it again, closer to the shore. He straggled to see in the deceiving morning light. There was something dark moving away from him, but it looked nothing like a fish. Some water animal, maybe? Not wanting to scare it away, he was treading the water quietly, watching its progress toward the grassy bank.  
  
What happened next, made him cease his movements, nearly drowning himself. The rounded dark object rose from the water on the support of the slim white neck, narrow shoulders, graceful back. He blinked twice, not believing what he was seeing. Of course, there could be no young and beautiful woman here, alone, many miles away from any village. Girls of such beauty are guarded by their parents or husbands like the most precious of treasures, and never let to wander in the secluded forest lakes in the view of the army camp. Indeed, it was no regular girl. Who was she? Were the legends about the water sprites true? Was he seeing the enchanted guardian of the lake?  
  
He felt himself able to believe anything at that point. She was just too lovely for a mortal woman. She seemed inseparable from her surroundings: the lake, the mist, the morning dew, and the smell of the wet leaves. She was as beautiful, pure and untouched as this tranquil lake in the forgotten forest. and he would give his life to touch her. His awareness of her was physically obvious now, despite the cool water.  
  
What's wrong with you, Shang? A boy soldier, a dream girl, a water sprite. his abstinence must have been for too long, it was becoming dangerous for his immortal soul. In his embarrassment he made a careless move, and splash of water resounded over the lake's surface.  
  
The water sprite turned warningly, trying to listen to the sound. The small breasts, the slim waist twisted in the taut spring of attention, the huge dark pools of her eyes, her white, lithe form against the dark foliage she was just. perfection. She might have seen something, or heard maybe, because her small hands came up in an attempt to cover herself. Then she bolted behind the tree, and simply disappeared from the view.  
  
In half a dozen powerful strokes, Shang swam to the spot where the vision appeared, and climbed on the shore to see if there were any traces of her. He rushed through the bushes, unheeding of the noise he was making or his own nakedness. Well, some parts of him did call for attention, efficiently proving his view of his own sexual orientation. That was no reaction of a boy lover. Well, she was gone, disappeared without a trace, as a little nymph she was. And he was making a fool of himself.  
  
He was thinking of the vision on the lake all day, through the routine of the camp life and later in the evening. He walked around in hope to find a house or village that the girl might had come from, he even asked soldiers if they seen any people around, but they were alone in the entire valley.  
  
He returned to the lake after dark, but the water sprite was too scared or too stubborn to show herself again. By morning he was convinced that it was indeed a supernatural apparition. He'd seen women of different states of life in his time, but none could compare with the girl he met a morning before. Peasant girls were never as graceful; their build was too crude, disfigured by the manual work. Noble girls never had such toned bodies, with cat-like strength and natural grace. No, his charming spirit of the lake did not belong among mortal women.  
  
Shang's head was light after the sleepless night. It did not matter much: the day was dedicated for a lengthily march that constituted the last leg of their journey. The troops were sufficiently schooled by now, and keeping them in order did not require much concentration.  
  
He was dozing in the saddle, half-wondering about his adventure in the forest, half-listening to the chatter of the soldiers. He knew that he was trying to keep his thoughts on the water sprite, because it was much safer subject than the one he forbade himself.  
  
Still, he was always aware where precisely Ping was at any moment of time. At that point, Ping was forced to participate in the discussion on the most popular subject: girls. While other guys were always bragging over their victories, Ping had never joined them. Perhaps he was too young to have much experience.  
  
But somehow Shang believed that it was good breeding of the worthy son of Fa clan. There was something inconsistent in Ping's behavior with women. He was painfully shy, clearly uncomfortable when girls in the villages where they stayed overnight tried to flirt with a cute young soldier.  
  
Shang could understand the bashfulness of the young boy. But then once he witnessed as a pleasure girl made a shameless pass on him, pressing her assets to the boy in the most compromising manner. A grown man might have been shaken under such assault. But Ping only brushed her off contemptuously, and did not even blush. Shang did not hear what he said to the woman, but she retreated in shame and behaved much more modest the rest of the evening.  
  
It just did not add up. On one hand, Ping had a very sober concept of women, and never idealized them. On the other, his ideas of them were somewhat naïve. He talked of them as equal, almost comrades, capable of reasoning and decision-making. One day he'll have to learn that they were only brainless pretty dolls, petty and vain, nothing to inspire such respect in the bright boy like Ping. Though, an idea of an intelligent and admirable woman was very attractive indeed. Too bad such women never existed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They were climbing higher and higher in the mountains, chatting amiably. The next turn was going to bring them in the direct view of the village where his father's forces were located. He felt a pleasant anticipation, a joy of showing his father the newest and well-trained troops of China. Father would be glad that his son proved to be a worthy captain. That was some achievement, to make soldiers out of ruffians like Yao and kids like Ping.  
  
Shang tried not to look at the boy directly. It was enough to see his footprints on the snow. It was easy to pick Ping's out; they were half of the size of the next smallest foot in the regiment. Shang smiled: many ladies would kill for such little feet.  
  
As they passed the curve of the road, Shang felt that something very wrong was in the village. There was no customary noise of the human habitat, no life signs of the village, only bitter smell of smoke in the air. But nothing prepared him for the horror of what he saw. The village was burnt to cinders, all people apparently killed. There was no sign of the army anywhere.  
  
"I do not understand. My father should have been there."  
  
There was no time to contemplate the unexplainable. His duty was to take care of the situation as he had found it. First, to estimate the damage and to help those who could be helped. He turned to his horror-stricken soldiers and gave a brisk order:  
  
"Search for survivors"  
  
They walked from house to house, but there was no one found in the entire village. The only thing remotely human was a small doll that Ping found among the coals. Another reminder of the innocent souls they failed to protect. The little mistress of this doll would never need it again, and who knows how terrible her last minutes were. An uncertain sound from Chien- Po attracted his attention. The sad giant was holding something in his hands oh, so familiar.  
  
"The General."  
  
Shang's mind could not at first grasp the significance of the dented helmet of his father that Chien-Po was giving to him. He moved unthinkingly after the soldiers, to the edge of the cliff.  
  
There it was the army of his father. Utterly demolished by some unimaginable force, twisted bodies frozen in the snow, weapons and banners scattered around. So that's was where the finest troops of China found their tragic end. That was where Shang lost his father.  
  
Shang was strangely aware of his feet, firmly planted in the cold snow, strained rigidly. He was sure he could not make another step. Never again he will hear fascinating tales of the heroic history of China from his father. Never again he will hear restrained praise of gentle reproach from him. No more lessons on strategy or tactical planning. No more warm pat on the back when things look too gloomy. The only man he loved, his only family was gone. He will never have a chance to make his father proud of him. He was utterly alone in the world.  
  
Yao retrieved the sword of the General. The sword that seen days of such glory was found in the pile of rubble next to his father's body. Shang reverently accepted the sword, and placed it in his scabbard. His own sword he inserted in the frozen ground at the edge of the cliff and covered with his father's helmet, as a memorial for his father and his slain warriors.  
  
He remained there for a few moments, praying to ancestors and to the soul of his father that joined them so untimely. He was called out of his reverie by a small warm hand gently placed on his shoulder. Ping's eyes were full of sincere sympathy:  
  
"I am sorry" he said softly, hiding his eyes  
  
Shang rose to his feet. That was not a time for despair. He placed his own hand on Ping's shoulder. The boy was so small next to Shang. Yet, he might have been best friend Shang ever had. Shang was not alone after all.  
  
He turned away. From the corner of his eye he saw a hand with long tapered fingers placed the doll next to the sword. Ping's gentle heart paid the last respect to the innocent lives lost in the war as Shang honored the fallen warriors. Shang was touched by the gesture, but the time was pressing. Huns must been approaching the capital at that very moment.  
  
"We are the only hope for the emperor now. Move out." Shang cryed out, managing somehow to sound collected and business-like. He was a soldier first and foremost, and a son second.  
  
They were pushing through the deep snow, cold to the core. All supplies and cannons they had were loaded on the only cart they had with them. Powerful Khan was pulling the cart, with ping walking by his side.  
  
Suddenly sound of explosion reached Shang. He turned to see that one of the cannons came to life for no apparent reason, sending the rocket high in the sky, pinpointing their position to anyone watching. Ping was a couple of yards in front of the cart, and the rocket obviously came from the inside through freshly-made hole, so there was no way Ping could have anything to do with it. But Shang was blind with anger anyway:  
  
"What happened? You just gave away our position" he lashed out at the young soldier.  
  
Ping just looked at him under such undeserved scolding. There was no point venting his frustration on the boy. The situation was serious enough.  
  
His fear was justified in the next moment. An arrow came from nowhere, hitting him in the shoulder. Armour protected him, but more arrows were raining down on the unprotected troop.  
  
"Get out of range" he yelled over the noise of panicking people.  
  
Soldiers were scrambling for the cover of the rocks. The rain of arrows was so dense, it seemed that the sky got darker. Some of arrows were carrying burning rags, and one of them hit the cart with all the cannons. If they would explode, they'd kill most of his soldiers and leave the rest of them unarmed and defenceless. He had to save the cannons.  
  
Obeying his hoarse order, the boys begun to unload the cart in the haste. But flames were consuming the cart too fast. There was no way they could save all the cannons. He had to protect the soldiers from the coming explosion.  
  
He ordered a retreat. He saw that Ping swung his sword to free Khan of from the harness. Even in the face of the danger boy did not forget his horse. He barely had time to move away from the cart before it exploded.  
  
They all run under cover and prepared to use the cannons. It was a pleasure to see how well his soldiers worked under the stress of the real battle. All the movements were smooth, economical. The fire was organized and precise. The clouds of smoke hid the enemy forces, but there was no more arrows coming at them. To be safe, Shang ordered to save the last cannon.  
  
As the smoke cleared, their spirit slowly sank. All surrounding slopes were black from the masses of the enemy forces. Shang never fathomed the size of the army that Shan-Yu brought in China. And he was alone against it now. So that's how the best regiment of is father was destroyed.  
  
There was no force to withstand such attack in the entire China. It was the worst nightmare of any officer: a handful of the foot soldiers surrounded from three side by the whole army, squeezed in the bottom of the small valley at the edge of the cliff. Just a few green recruits that had never been to the battle - against huge horde of seasoned Mongolian warriors.  
  
There was no way out. The only choice was to die with honour, with full knowledge that this sacrifice would be in vain. The best they could possibly do was to take out a few of the enemy. That would make no difference in the war. Still, he would do his best. May be, if he'd get lucky, he'd be able to take one of the higher officers of Shan-Yu with them to the land of the dead. But it was a small consolation for such a senseless death.  
  
He put all his soul into training these boys, only to see them slain in the very first battle. They became as dear to him as friends. Ping! The boy would die too! That thought was a harder blow than the perspective of his own imminent death. But what could be possibly done? These barbarians have no mercy. Shang gave his last order to his soldiers:  
  
"Prepare to fight. If we die, we die with honour" If he'd be honest, he'd say, "when we die." there was no hope, and he knew that. Poor Ping, he'd never grow up to become a man he was promising to be.  
  
A deafening Mongolian war cry shattered the air. Huns were rolling down the hill, like a black avalanche. There was no power in the world to stop them. Shan-Yu himself was riding in front of his army, flaunting his monstrous power. Shang was trying to come with some idea to tip the scale in their favour. Shan-Yu was a presentably large aim by now. It was a long shot, but worth trying.  
  
"Aim the last cannon at Shan-Yu!" he ordered. Yao carefully set the cannon on the ground to aim it as best as he could. The rest of the soldiers bared their swords and assumed the defence stance.  
  
A sudden movement among his soldiers caught Shan's attention. Ping had sheathed the sword, shouldered Yao aside and grabbed the last cannon. The boy started down the hill in a mad dash, as if to intercept the Huns on their attack. There was a sense of purpose and urgency in every move of the boy. He had a plan, apparently too complex or too crazy to explain it.  
  
About halfway between them and the Huns, Ping stopped and set the cannon on the ground. Was he trying to take the oncoming Shan-Yu personally? An admirable courage. He just could succeed in that.  
  
But he was aiming too high, why? Usually, his aim was the best among the boys. Could he be too nervous?  
  
He obviously had dropped the matches, and was looking all around in the snow for them. Shan-Yu was getting too close! A few more strides, and he would swing his vicious sword at the helpless boy.  
  
Soldiers saw the predicament Ping got himself in and ran toward him, even knowing that they would never be in time to help. Shang himself could not help but go out to the young foolish hero.  
  
But Ping did not pay any attention to friends or enemies. He kept working, even with Shan-Yu only a few yards away. Somehow he got the fire going, and crouched behind the cannon to aim it just right.  
  
Oh, no, the boy was not nervous at all. He actually smiled at Shan-Yu through the aim of the cannon, and then slowly, deliberately lifted it well above the head of the charging enemy, and let the rocket fly.  
  
Did he lose his mind? There was no way he could miss the huge form of Shan- Yu a mere three feet away.  
  
Shang was already close enough to see a slow confident smile spreading on the childish face of the boy. No, it was no miss.  
  
Shang followed the retreating cannon with his eyes, and saw it sink in the snow hanging from the sharp mountain peak overlooking the valley. The snow muffled the explosion, so insignificant, harmless on the vast chest of the mountain.  
  
Then it downed on him. Gods, the child was a genius. He just saved them all, the capital, China itself. He destroyed the whole army with one shot. The snow cornice was slowly sinking down the hill, engaging wider and wider wing of the avalanche.  
  
Down in the valley, Shan-Yu raised his sword at the boy who did not even attempt to defend himself. Instead, Ping grinned. Shang knew that grin: the young boy, unarmed, half the size of the most feared warrior in the world, smiled smugly, in total control of the situation.  
  
Shang was stunned by admiration. That was the most brilliant plan any one ever came with, and most courageously executed. He was owed at the thought that he just witnessed a birth of a hero of China. Ping knew he might die in a moment, but he had won already.  
  
Shan-Yu glanced back, and then again at the small fearless figure crouching on the snow. The rumble of the avalanche was gaining on the enormous army of Hans. There is a horrified respect in the dark eyes of the Shan-Yu. Chinese had foiled his plans. Even if they all die, they will take Hans with them and will save the capital.  
  
Shan-Yu swung the sword, slicing Ping's mid-section. Ping moved back in attempt to avoid the strike.  
  
Was he all right? The boy was alive, at least. He got up and ran, using the moment when Shan-Yu is torn between fear of the death and concern for his army.  
  
The avalanche was already swallowing the first rows of Huns. In another minute, it will sweep the place where the small Chinese troop was. Since the terrifying wall of snow was coming from behind the Mongols there was some chance for Chinese to escape from it.  
  
Ping's small hand grabbed Shang's one and pulled him in the break-neck run downhill, away from the danger. Events were unfolding so fast that Shang could barely keep track of them, leave alone to have any control.  
  
Only now, running downhill with the small warm hand in his he realized the enormity of what happened. The Hun's army was utterly destroyed, they won. The nature defended her own. If only they could escape themselves. But it did not matter much. The Huns were stopped. The capital was safe.  
  
The snow under his feet began to move as the treacherous waters of the sea. The avalanche was catching up with them. Shang lost his footing, and Ping's fingers desperately holding his hand slipped from his grasp. The wave of the snow covered him and carried down to the cliff. When Shang surfaced again, he saw that Khan was making his way to his little master, braking through the snow with his powerful chest.  
  
Ping managed to grab the reins and a second later he was on the horseback. The relief that Ping had a chance was overwhelming for the man who was sliding to his own death. The snow hit him again, and he blacked out. When he came to, his eyes went to the only light of his life. What in the world was he doing? Instead of riding to safety, Ping turned  
  
Khan down, and was racing the avalanche down. He heard desperate, childish cry:  
  
"Shang!"  
  
It was impossible. The boy actually thought he could save his commander. He never learned when to stop. What was even more amazing, that he was really gaining on Shang. There was that small hand again, reaching for his. Shang grabbed it desperately, but a new tide of raging snow swallowed him, breaking the contact.  
  
Semi-conscious, Shang felt that Ping pulled him across the saddle. How could a small boy do it? He heard about the feats people accomplished with the strength of the desperation, but it was still unbelievable. The boy was incredible.  
  
Unfortunately, it was too late for them both. The flood of snow pulled them further down the slope, and suddenly Shang felt that he was falling, along with Khan and Ping still holding on him. At least they will be together till the last was Shang's last thought before he blacked out.  
  
He never knew how they were pulled to safety. He felt hands trying to open his armour, and heard voice:  
  
"Get back, guys, give them some air!"  
  
For a moment, he could not believe that he was still alive. He long lost counts of the miracles that Ping could pull through in a matter of minutes. He opened heavy lids and sought the boy out. He was right there, panting on the ground.  
  
Shang put his hand on boy's shoulder:  
  
"You are the craziest man I ever met. And for that, I owe you my life. From now on, you have my trust"  
  
No kidding. You can have my life, boy. I am honoured to be with you when you pulled THAT trick on Huns. Other boys were too overcome with excitement:  
  
"Let's hear it for Ping, the bravest of us all"  
  
That what you think, Ling, thought Shang wryly. The boy is the bravest of any warriors that ever lived.  
  
There was such light of joy in the dark eyes of Ping. He rose to face Shang, but then unexpectedly moaned in pain and brought one hand to his stomach. The hand came out drenched in blood, the boy looked at it in surprise on the young face and suddenly swayed.  
  
No, not that, not now! The sword of Shan-Yu, it got you after all. Shang could see that the Ping's consciousness was slipping away, and haze of death swimming in the beautiful dark eyes.  
  
"He is wounded! Get help!!!" he heard the hooves of Khan almost immediately. He did not even turn to see who was dispatched to bring the doctor. All he cared for was the boy that was slowly sagging in his arms.  
  
"Hold on" it was half-prayer, half order. He could not lose the boy! He was the only living being he really cared for.  
  
"Hold on, Ping"  
  
But Ping could not hear him any more. He was lying there, a little prone on the snow.  
  
Shang gathered him in his arms, and carried to the hastily erected tent. Ping was so tiny, so light, a mere child. Shang had almost forgotten that behind this intelligent and courageous young soldier with unwavering smile was a young boy, no more then fifteen by his looks. A child, like a son.  
  
Shang pressed his lips to the pale cool forehead of the boy in his arms. The boy's hair smelled something sweet and long forgotten. How could so small of a body hold so much life?  
  
Where was the doctor?! This boy did too much for China to die because of some lazy loaf. Just hang on for a bit longer here, little buddy. We'd get that village charlatan to patch you up a little, so it would be safe to take you on the horseback. I'll carry you so carefully, you wouldn't feel a thing. The capital was right down here. We'd be there in no time. Then, you'd have the best doctors and the best care there was, better than Emperor himself got. Just don't die on me, my boy. You have too much to live for. You'd see, all China would know about the magnificence of your sacrifice, your unparalleled courage and your brilliant mind. You'd become most trusted and most admired man in the country, just hold on. Why did you have to risk you life yet again, for me, beloved. Even when hurt, you thought of others, my little hero, my friend.  
  
Finally, the doctor came. He was from the nearby village, an old, experienced fellow. He took one glance at devastated Shang, nodded and took over. Shang was evicted from the tent, and now was pacing around it, almost mad with worry.  
  
The trio of the soldiers explained to him how Ping saved them both, shooting the arrow with the rope for them to pull the horse up. Shang was no longer surprised. There was never a hero like Ping in the Chinese army.  
  
But he was too young to die. The scar from Shan-Yu was an honour for any warrior, if only he could live to tell about it. As far as Shang knew, no one ever survived the wound from the hands of Shan-Yu. But Ping has to be the first. He was already the first to defeat the terrible Hun, he will be the first to recover from his sword. If he survives, Shang would take him to his father personally, and tell the heroic tale of the young boy.  
  
At last the doctor climbed out of the tent. Shang zeroed on him like a hawk on the prey.  
  
"How is the wound?" he asked anxiously.  
  
The doctor saw that soothing the desperate captain was a matter of his own survival:  
  
"It will be all right, the sword did not penetrate the abdominal cavity, the life is not in danger." He crooned soothingly, "There is a substantial loss of blood and shock, but it will pass. I have bandaged the wound, and administered some droughts. Rest for a few days is all that's needed for a full recovery. She is a healthy girl, she will make it if you will take a good care of her"  
  
"Girl?!"  
  
he did not understand for a minute. Then he yanked the flap of the tent away and strode to Ping's bed. He (she?) was awake, and rose swiftly on the bed to meet him, smiling shyly and adoringly, as always. The blanket fell of, baring slim arms, fragile shoulders and the grey bandage spiralling up from the tiny waist to the gentle swell of her  
  
breasts.  
  
There was no doubt about the gender of his best soldier. Ping had been lying to him from the start. He was hiding the girl of his dreams right under his nose. Shang frowned at her in disbelief. Ping or whatever her name was grabbed the blanket to cover herself, and cringed in shame at his stern look.  
  
"I can explain" she muttered in a soft, desperate voice. 'I just bet you can.' thought Shang. So he was not going crazy over a boy after all. The pieces of the puzzle were falling together: the attraction to the boy, the dreams of the girl.  
  
The water sprite! Of course! There was never any sprite, just Ping taking a morning swim! So that's what this boy was hiding under the soldier's garb.  
  
The desire to touch her, to prove to himself she was real at last was almost overwhelming. Shang had to make a step back and cross his arms in front of him to stop his hands from reaching for her.  
  
She deliberately deceived him to drive him crazy! No, it was impossible: she never knew about him. She was already in the camp and dresses as a boy when he first saw her.  
  
What was he thinking! It was never about him! A noble creature like Ping was above personal deceit. There must be some other reason.  
  
The little impostor! All that vexation he went through in the last few weeks, it was for nothing! If he only knew that the boy he was going crazy about was actually a girl, that his errant lust was not a perversion after all! He would. What? Take her to his tent? Make her a mistress? Impossible. She was from the Fa family.  
  
Yet, he was absolutely sure that he'd be unable to stand having his enchanted little water sprite in the regiment and not press his attention on her. Marry her? Who ever heard of an officer marrying one of his soldiers? Proper marriage for a man of his status must be arranged by a matchmaker, and conducted in the traditional and dignified way. No, even as a girl she was just as unapproachable as Ping ever was. But. That was before she saved China. Now, it was even more complicated. With a girl of such courage and ingenious mind he was clearly out of his league. The only benefit his new knowledge gave him was to dream of her without remorse, he thought a bit sheepishly.  
  
Chi Fu stormed in the tent and Shang left at once, he just needed a moment to get his thoughts together. But he underestimated the hypocrisy of the counsellor: the scrawny worm pulled the sick girl out on the snow, exposing her before the soldiers. He yanked the string tying her hair, and it fell down, framing a young pretty face.  
  
Shang recognized these slender shoulders all too well. The blanket she was desperately clutching to her chest had nothing to hide from him. The small white figure he once saw in the morning mist was forever in his heart. The girl gathered her courage to speak:  
  
"My name is Mulan" a water sprite named Mulan. how appropriate. "I did it to save my father"  
  
Shang was startled. Father! He just lost his own, he felt that so acutely. Of course! Fa Zhou was gravely wounded in his last battle, he would never be able to sit on a horse or fight again. His own father was wondering if his friend would be able to walk... A daughter like Mulan would not be able to watch her father going on a suicide mission. Shang himself would die to protect his own father. He expected nothing less from Ping.  
  
"Please, believe me" she was pleading  
  
and in his heart Shang could not help to answer: 'I believe you, my little soldier. 'But Chi Fu was not satisfied. He appealed to the old law, demanding the execution of the impostor. The law! Shang was so shocked by the revelation, so relieved that he was not crazy, he forgot all about the law. It stated clearly, that any woman who impersonated a man was to be put to death. To death!  
  
Chi Fu was looking straight at him. Than it dawned on Shang: not only the monstrous sentence for Mulan was certain, he, Shang, was supposed to execute it. It could not be real, it must be some horrendous nightmare. He was not alone in his resentment of the unfolding cruelty. The friends, even the horse seemed ready to protect her. But Chi Fu was unfazed.  
  
"Restrain him" he pointed at Khan. Then he gestured to stop the soldiers who moved to defend the girl:  
  
"You know the law"  
  
What kind of law would demand the murder of an innocent child! He just found the best girl in the world. And the law was forcing him to murder her! He had served that law all his life; he was bound by it. It was his pride to put the honour before personal feelings. Now, he did not know what honour was. To kill the helpless wounded girl? To repay with death for saving his and everyone else' hide? That was honour? That was what he had devoted his life for? Then he was damned along with the rest of them. They were killing her, because they did not deserve to live on the same earth with her.  
  
Shang lifted the sword. Detachedly, he observed that this was the second time today that a sword was lifted above her head. The first had been Shan- Yu's.  
  
Mulan lifted her eyes valiantly to meet his. There was no reproach, no anger in her eyes, only acceptance of her fate - and pride. His eyes were fixed on her, trying to absorb every smallest detail, imprint the torturous image in his mind forever. Something was breaking inside him, and he knew for certain that he'd never be the same. She lowered her head in gesture of a proud submission. This small, half-naked girl on the snow was a picture of noble dignity, and he felt humbled in comparison.  
  
Then he felt it descending upon him, a moment of absolute clarity. That was it, the emotion that he read about in the famous poems and never truly believed in. His little pupil taught him what no other teacher before could: the love that was more magnificent than glory and nobler than honour.  
  
It was so simple, after all. He never intended to strike her. How could he? In the very beginning he was prepared to accept responsibility for letting Ping go. Now he would accept the punishment for saving Mulan as the greatest of honours. All he had to do is make it look good for Chi Fu.  
  
"A life for a life, my debt is repaid" he said, hating himself  
  
What a joke. You saved all our lives today, and all those in the capital. You avenged my father. This debt can never be repaid. You saved my own life more than once, and how have I paid you back? Your only crime being too loyal to those you love, and being too brave. There is no one like you, Ping, Mulan. A beautiful name. I wish there were a way to do more for you, my love. 'The contemptible worm Chi Fu was trying to make some noises to the effect that they should not leave Mulan alive. Shang's patience was wearing thin.  
  
"I said, move out" he snapped at the sniveling Chi Fu.  
  
They drove off, leaving the wounded girl alone on the mountaintop. Shang never felt so bad about anything in his life before. He saw that the Gang left some blankets and food for Mulan, but pretended he did not notice. He hated himself for being unable to help her. He smiled humorlessly. Her former tormenters took care of her. Obnoxious Yao left his own blanket, lazy Ling gathered her few belongings together, glutton Chien-Po spared some of the food. And he, noble Li Shang, threatened to kill her.  
  
The man that loved her left her alone, hurt and weak on the mountain Tang- Shao pass. The vision of her thrown on the frozen ground was engraved in his mind. Thin naked arms against the snow. she must have been so cold. Other girls of her breeding were protected from the slightest breeze. He left her alone in the snow. Other men protect their loves with own life. He had betrayed his for what? He felt that he had lost the ground under his feet. Every moral doctrine, every notion of honour he had before was shaken inside him.  
  
Honour was no longer just a rigid set of established rules, but a puzzling path where decisions on what's right and what's wrong had to be made on every turn, without any guidance from a clear-cut moral code. Nothing was certain any more, except for the inner integrity of an honest man. The example was right there: a girl that had broken every rule of decency in existence in order to do the right thing. And he, who was brought up as an epitome of established traditions, respected her all the more for that.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The capital was just two hours ride from the Tang-Shao pass, but it took them almost until morning to get there. Shang was exhausted to the point when he dropped on the bed in the inn, and lost himself for several hours of fitful sleep. The sun was well up when he was summoned to the victory party. That was something that he did not consider before: he was supposed to accept all the credit for the victory that Mulan had brought to China, when the real hero was thought unworthy of mentioning among warriors.  
  
The news about the victory had spread through entire capital and surrounding country with unbelievable speed. Everyone rejoiced that all the Hun army was destroyed, and the small Chinese regiment that brought the victory was only one soldier short. Only one small soldier.  
  
They were given a magnificent feast. The pleasure girls danced for the heroes of China, but Shang's mood was too dreadful to pay any attention to their graceful movements. The dancers attempted to flirt with him; after all, he was a "hero"! getting him in their bed would be quite an achievement for them. But all he could see was the grey bandage around a slim torso, unravelling in his hands.  
  
He was doing it again. Instead of thinking of her as a hero, an unachievable ideal that no earthly passions could ever touch, he was thinking of a beautiful girl to desire, an adorable child to protect and hide from the rest of the world. What did he say to her? "I will make a man out of you, boy" Duh. On the high-sight it was obviously an impossible  
  
task from the start. On the other hand, he would not mind a chance to make a woman out of that girl. He had lost his chance, if he ever had it. The vision of the water sprite was haunting his sleep and dominated his thoughts during the day. Only she. No one else in the entire world was so in sync with nature, had such understanding over it to engage as an ally the force as terrifying as avalanche.  
  
The parade was planned later that evening. The capital had a reason to celebrate, but Shang had none. Beat of the drums, colorful kites only served to wound his sore conscience more. It was he who was the real impostor, taking credit for what was done by someone else. The gang was as depressed as he. They were riding with their heads down, eyes trained on the ground. The undeserved praise. it was worse than undeserved punishment. The retainers were crying out:  
  
"Make way for the heroes of China!" If the real hero were a man, he would be pronounced a legend and receive the highest honors. But as a girl, she was abandoned to die in the snowy mountains. She was a hero that China did not deserve.  
  
There was a movement in the crowd, a small rider on the large black horse was making his way toward Shang. Shang's eyes widened in shock when he recognized the face that was haunting him day and night. Mulan was back!  
  
She had her hair down, as a girl should, and he could not understand how he ever thought her to be a boy. She moved so boldly, as if she had never been hurt. Maybe water sprites heal faster than humans? But why was she there? She was telling something about Huns surviving the avalanche  
  
"Huns are here, I saw them!"  
  
Why was she still trying to help them? Did not they hurt her enough already? She would only be hurt again. She did not belong among this arrogant crowd. She should run away from these stupid, cruel people who will never deserve her.  
  
"You do not belong here, Mulan, go home" May be if he send her home she would be safe. She would never forgive him anyway; there was nothing to lose. At least she would be safe.  
  
"Why can't you believe me?" there was such hurt in her eyes.  
  
"Why should I?" he asked with a challenge 'You tricked me, you are the water sprite, the mistress of mountain avalanches, you are beyond our understanding. You can turn defeat into victory, weakness into strength, yourself into a boy-soldier, me into a lovesick fool. I am helpless against you. But I will keep you safe, if this would be the last thing I'd do.' Shang was confused and ashamed, he did not know why she talked to him at all. He was still hurt that she lied to him. He could understand her, though - the penalty was death. For the first time in his life he was ashamed of being a man.  
  
"Or why else would I be here?"  
  
that's easy, beloved. You are here because I am here. You are my heart, you are my conscience. You were never away, you'll always be in my heart. But, for the sake of my sanity, please, just go away. I've heard your warning, run and be safe.  
  
"You said you trusted Ping. How Mulan is different?"  
  
'Oh, she's different, all right,' thought Shang. 'To be Mulan, one had to be ten times more courageous than Ping. Mulan was a hero, a beautiful brave girl, girl I love. I wouldn't let you get hurt again. Go away; go to wherever in the Celestial lands your real home is. It should be a wonderful, enchanted place, so that your family could raise a miracle like you there. This earth does not deserve you. I don't deserve even to look at you. For the sake of my love, I will offend you yet one more time. Just go away, and be safe from us all. We will deal with the Huns, I promise. Your courage won't be in vain, my love. Forgive me, my little brave water sprite. '  
  
She seemed to despair in convincing him, and turned to the gang:  
  
"Keep your eyes open. I know they are here"  
  
He heard her trying to convince other people, but no one would listen. The testimony of a woman never deserved any attention. Women were invisible. He could only plead silently: 'Go home, Mulan, leave these arrogant fools to their fate. '  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The procession approached the stairs of the Imperial Palace. There was no way out of it Shang had to carry out this loathsome duty of the hero- figure.  
  
He ascended the stairs to greet the Emperor. The brightly-colored ceremonial dragon followed him up the stairs, swaying right behind his back. Shang was somewhat uncomfortable with it, it was too close behind. Were those performers crazy? What were they doing on the steps of the palace?  
  
The stately old Emperor received him on the wide ceremonial landing. Shang knelt to offer the Emperor the sword of Shan-Yu.  
  
The Emperor spoke, and his voice had flown freely over the heads of the thousands of people gathered around the Palace.  
  
"Thanks to our brave warriors.," 'There was only one worrier, your Majesty, and she was tossed away, discarded.' "the Middle kingdom will sleep peacefully tonight"  
  
But Shang would never sleep peacefully again.  
  
Then the Emperor addressed Shang, who was still kneeling with the enemy sword in his hands:  
  
"I know what it means to you, Li Shang. Your father would be very proud."  
  
'I wish it was true, Your Majesty I wish I deserved your praise.' Shang thought, bowing deeper, holding out the sword to the Emperor.  
  
He heard a woman scream in the crowd, and in the next second the sharp wing brushed against his head, and the hawk of Shan-Yu had torn the sword from his unsuspecting hands. The powerful bird soared to the roof of the palace, and he saw one of the grotesque figures there move suddenly, extend his hand and catch the sword in mid-air. The gargoyle straightened and transformed into the fearsome figure of Shan-Yu himself.  
  
Mulan was right, after all. The most dangerous of Huns had survived the avalanche somehow.  
  
The paper dragon behind Shang suddenly sprang to life. Half a dozen Huns jumped from the cover of multi-colored silk, knocked Shang down, grabbed the Emperor and disappeared behind the heavy doors of the palace before anyone could react.  
  
"No!"  
  
Shang could not believe it! The Emperor was kidnapped from under his very nose! But he was not about to give up without a fight.  
  
The gang was already beside him, ready for action. Chien-Po pulled a heavy stone figure from somewhere, and they joined forces in attempt to break the doors with it. The rush of activity simulated some meaningful progress, but Shang knew that by the time they would reach the Emperor it would be too late.  
  
Suddenly, there was a boy-like whistle from behind. Mulan, no, Ping was back.  
  
"Hey, guys, I've got an idea"  
  
Shang had to smile: 'We are desperate, my little water sprite. If you have an idea, it's the best chance we could ever hope for.'  
  
The gang seemed to share his opinion. In fact, they dropped the statue at once, and followed Mulan somewhere around the corner of the Palace. While Shang was hesitating, full of shame and fear that she'd never be able to forgive him, the faithful trio was putting themselves at her disposal blindly, sure that she was smart enough to get the job done. Her quick wit was working to save China once more, the mischief bright in her eyes.  
  
Once again, Ping turned her weakness into strength. No one paid attention to women? All right! We could sneak in as women and be invisible. She produced silk court dresses from nowhere, and the gang dressed up, ridiculous in the make-up and ladies scarves. Only the slim figure orchestrating the show seemed perfectly in it's rightful place.  
  
Mulan was in the full swing of action. She seemed to accept his hesitation as a refusal to help, and he could not blame her for that. He was a jerk, and he knew it too.  
  
Still he wanted to be by her side, if only she'd accept him. He touched her shoulder, much more hesitantly than he ever touched Ping. She swung around, to face his timid wordless plea. And she just smiled smile in response, with instant acceptation. Ping's grin was strangely in place on the face of the lovely girl Mulan. Gods, she was so forgiving. There was no other like her. He was drawn to her by the power beyond his will. Of course, he would go with her - anywhere, to fight Huns, to the end of Earth, to hell. But he did not dress up. He was glad no one asked him the reason: he did not want to admit even to himself that he'd rather die than look stupid in the eyes of this girl.  
  
Somehow the command of the whole operation was in the hands of the girl, not the captain. She explained her strategy, positioned the attacking force, defence, and the back-up. In all honesty, Shang could not add anything to her tactical plan, even if he tried to. It looked like the strategic talents of captain Fa Zhou ran in the family.  
  
But why is she so eager to help? Other soldiers have no choice, really, and besides, the success of the operation would bring them fame and glory. Mulan, if successful, would only attract attention of the officials, and will be subjected to disgrace and very possibly death again. Yet she was here, guided only by the love of her country. Her pure selfless heart gave them the strength, and her bright mind the means to save the emperor, and China. He stepped aside, resigning command, just watching her give precise and colourful instructions to the most preposterous bunch of concubines he'd ever seen.  
  
"Any questions?"  
  
"Does this dress make me look fat?"  
  
Smack. Yao could always find a way to crack a silly joke at the most inopportune moment.  
  
Shang's own task was pretty straightforward: wait till the boys distracted the guards, sneak in the room, punch out Shan Yu, get the emperor. Piece of cake. He had to admit, he was the best-qualified man for the job. Except that Shan Yu was known as a great warrior, and he was not sure he could take him one-on-one. Anyway, he'd do his best.  
  
Carefully, they peaked in the hallway that led to the main balcony of the Palace. Huns had to be there by all indications. Sure enough, a guard was posted of several brawny Mongols, watching the entrance to the room. The gang proceeded according to Mulan's instructions. They sashayed towards the muscle-men, flirting like cheap street hookers.  
  
"Concubines" commented one of them "Ugly concubines."  
  
Shang could not deny that Mongols possessed a keen sense of observation.  
  
Still, the guards made some flirtatious passes toward the cream of the Chinese army. Hmm. Abstinence must have hit them even harder than it had Shang. Imagine, the glorious moustache that Yao sported could attract any man, no matter how desperate he was.  
  
If it would continue much longer, one of them was bound to blow the whole thing and explode in very masculine laughter. But the farce took another turn for the worse: the fruit the gang had collected to compensate for the missing parts of female anatomy rolled out of the Ling's cleavage.  
  
The gig was up. But the guards were too stunned by the unusual phenomena to offer much resistance. The weird trio beat them to a pulp with the remnants of the fruit salad they extracted from the various parts of their clothing.  
  
Shang was forever puzzled what the banana was meant to represent in Yao's understanding of feminine endowments, even though Shang considered himself quite an expert on women. At least before he met a certain water sprite. Now he had to admit defeat: if he'd ever be lucky enough to see her lovely body again, he would not be surprised to find a pair of wings on her back.  
  
He was awakened from his contemplation by cry from Mulan:  
  
"Shang, go!"  
  
it was time for him to act. He pushed passed the fallen guards in a blink of an eye, and broke into the room where the Emperor was being held. There was Shan yu, pacing like a tiger around the Emperor.  
  
"I am tired of your arrogance, old man. Bow to me"  
  
these were the first words that Shang heard.  
  
"No matter how the wind howls, the mountain can not bow to it" the Emperor answeres with all the calm and self-possession of a teacher explaining a lesson to an unpromising pupil.  
  
"Then you will kneel in pieces"  
  
Shan-Yu lifted his sword to deliver the deadly blow. But Shang was already there. He pushed the Emperor aside, and deflected the strike with his own sword.  
  
The fury and strength of the barbarous Hun were terrifying. It took all the skill Shang had only to block the hurricane of his blows. But the gang came to his aid just at the right moment. Chien-Po picked up the Emperor, and followed Mulan's orders to slide down the rope from the balcony.  
  
The Emperor was safe. The gang followed Chien-Po down the square, and was desperately calling Mulan and Shang to escape too. But the danger still existed: they had to keep the Huns in the palace at least until the cavalry would arrive.  
  
Shan-Yu understood that his only chance for victory slipped away with the Emperor. He made a grab to follow him down the rope. But Mulan had found a way, yet again. She did not run, she cut the rope with Shan-Yu's own sword, effectively trapping them all on the balcony and preventing Shan-Yu from following her friends and the Emperor.  
  
The heavy breathing of Shan-Yu turned into a scream when he realized that he was defeated. He turned to the only two humans that denied him his wish. Shang stepped in front of Mulan, to protect her with his life, if needed. Shan-Yu was raging for revenge.  
  
Shang was an exceptional warrior, but the Hun was more than his equal. Shan- Yu was bigger and stronger than Shang, and was more experienced in combat. In a second Shang was pinned under the huge Mongol with the sword to his throat.  
  
"You. You have taken away my victory" Shang knew he was about to be killed. But the small shoe hit Shan-Yu in the head and the defiant voice cried out:  
  
"No. I have."  
  
She pulled her hair back, and the proud face of the small soldier Ping looked straight into the eyes of the ferocious Shan-Yu.  
  
"The soldier from the mountains." the voice of the Hun was full of awe and wonder. He lost all his interest in the fallen captain of the Chinese army, pausing only long enough to knock him out with a powerful headbutt.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
When Shang came to, he was alone in the room. Apparently, Shan-Yu did not consider him as much of the threat. Smart Hun - the real danger was not the big strong man, but the little lady. The enemy who was understood was always partly safe, it was the girl who represented the unknown variable, which could tip the scale.  
  
There was no point in lying down on the job. The sounds of fighting were coming from outside. Was she still alive? That would make her a better fighter than her mentor. He himself had not lasted so long against Shan-Yu. Yet Mulan did not even have a sword. He had to do something.  
  
Shang shook the last remnants of dizziness from of his head and ran out of the palace. The eyes of the crowd outside were fixed on the roof, and as Shang turned to look, he saw an outline of two figures there, the bulky shape of the Hun leader and the swift, tiny figure of a girl. She was still fighting, though she was unarmed and facing a greatly superior opponent. The girl's combat skills were to his credit, but it still wasn't wise. 'What are you doing, Ping!' thought Shang desperately 'You might be a water sprite, but this is too much even for you. Run, my love, there will be another chance to fight this monster. We could take him together, do not let him kill you so senselessly. '  
  
She whipped out a fan, and used it to intercept and rip the sword away from her enemy. She was actually threatening Shan-Yu with his own sword! But instead of striking at him, she pinned the end of his garment to the roof.  
  
This time Shang did not interpret her move as a mistake. There was always a method to her madness. Whatever she did, it was no accident, she must have had a plan. What was it? Did she summon an earthquake or thunderbolt from the heavens? He would not be a the slightest bit surprised.  
  
And she did not disappoint her commanding officer. He never had time to see what actually happened. Suddenly, Shan-Yu whipped around with a look of horror on his face, and the next moment he was flying - literally - into the fireworks tower.  
  
The sound of an explosion shook the ground under Shang's feet, and the fire lashed out toward the Palace roof. But the nimble, small figure was no longer there. She was flying herself, sliding down another cable supporting the festive lights. The lanterns were popping away in her wake, showering down in a glorious salute to the little hero.  
  
Where did she get her ideas? And just how was she able to pull that last trick? There was no explanation. The forces that this girl commanded were beyond any sane mind. There was no sense in pondering it.  
  
Right now, he had to get to her. Down the stairs he ran to catch her, but of course he was too late. Her small body hit him in the back, and there she was, on the floor by his side, shy smile ever in place. There was a loud clank behind him as the smoking sword of Shan-Yu landed a mere foot away. Shang did not even turn his head. All he wanted to see in this world was right in front of him, tired, disheveled, but safe and sound.  
  
He could have stayed there forever, but in the next moment that annoying Chi Fu came fuming from the Palace right for them.  
  
"It was a deliberate attempt on my life! Where is she?" whined the councilor. How dares that worm! "Now she has done it!"  
  
The gang was already moving to shield their little comrade, but Chi Fu motioned them away.  
  
"Stand aside, this creature is not worth protecting"  
  
Shang loomed over the skinny bureaucrat menacingly, thinking: 'Yeah, right. First, you'd have to go through me, you bastard.'  
  
"She is a hero!" he snapped  
  
"She is a woman. She will never worth anything!"  
  
'The worm! She just saved us all'. That was more than Shang could stand. He grabbed Chi Fu by the lapels of his shirt  
  
"You pompous." but there was quiet and confident voice from behind.  
  
"That is enough."  
  
The emperor approached the group. There was no way Shang would let anyone judge Mulan harshly again:  
  
"Your Majesty, I can explain."  
  
But the Emperor silenced him with a single movement of his hand. He would obey for now. Shang moved aside, revealing Mulan for the eyes of the Emperor. She bowed ceremoniously, as if he were introducing herself to the royal presence at a formal gathering.  
  
"I've heard a great deal about you, Fa Mulan. You stole your father's armor, ran away from home, impersonated a soldier, deceived your commanding officer." The dread grew in him with every word the Emperor spoke. "Dishonoured the Chinese army, destroyed my palace." they all were bending under the weight of emperor's accusations. He saw that Mulan, too, was cringing under the lashing. "And you have saved us all."  
  
Shang wondered for a moment if the Emperor ever considered a career in performing arts, he was certainly good with dramatic effect. Then, again, a good politician was always a bit of an actor.  
  
The emperor smiled at the beaming Mulan and unexpectedly bent his back in a deep bow. The honour that had Shan-Yu demanded in vain was given freely to a young girl-warrior. That was the greatest honour in China.  
  
Chi Fu was first to recognize it. He dropped his pen and fell prostrate on the floor at the feet of the girl he claimed would never amount to anything. After him, everyone present knelt down before the saviour of China. Finally, the praise was given where it was due. At last Shang was able to express his awe and respect for the woman who deserved to be revered by all, and freely pay his homage to the little hero. He bent his large frame to the very ground itself, in imitation of the girl who had knelt proudly under his sword. So close to the small feet he worshiped, maybe for the last time in his life. 'This is what you deserved, my beloved, this great moment of honour before all the empire' was all he could think.  
  
The emperor was speaking again:  
  
"Chi Fu,"  
  
"Your excellency?" the worm prepared his notepad and brush  
  
"See to it that this woman is made a member of my council."  
  
the faces of the weird trio were easy to read: 'Chew on that, you bottom feeder. '  
  
"But there are no council positions open, your Majesty."  
  
"Very well, you can have his position."  
  
What? Chi Fu actually fainted, unable to appreciate the humour of the situation  
  
"With all due respect, your Excellency," Fa Mulan lived up to the honour of her noble family, her voice was cultured and confident "I think I've been away from home long enough."  
  
Good girl. Shang was pleased that she rejected the position in the Council. It was not her place among stupid counsellors like Chi Fu. He wondered though, if the Emperor was serious in the offer. Oh, she could do the job, no doubt about it. But the rest of the council would be rendered useless in comparison. The emperor smiled again:  
  
"Then, take this, so that your family know what you have done for me." He took of his own crest of the Emperors and put it around the slim neck of the girl. "And this, so the world will know what you have done for China."  
  
and he handed the famous sword of Shan-Yu to Mulan. She beamed like a child and threw her arms around the emperor's neck in sheer joy, as if he were her own grandfather. The old emperor melted into the kindest of smiles.  
  
Shang realized what a lonely place the throne must be, and how isolated the untouchable emperor was. The sincere hug from a pure-hearted girl was more precious than the crown. Still, the move was great presumption. Even Yao could see the breach of Court etiquette.  
  
"Can she do this?" Shang shrugged his shoulders, amazed. Apparently, this girl could do anything she wanted.  
  
She paid her farewell to the emperor and turned to the gang. There was a joyous sloppy group-hug, and Chien-Po lifted them all off the ground.  
  
Shang tensed in jealousy, but then happily realized that his turn was next. If she would hug him, he would be able to hug her back, press her to his chest. Surely, the grey bandage was still there, and she was still hurt. He would be as gentle as he could. But he would feel her body next to his for a few seconds, maybe smell her hair, like that time in the mountains... If only he knew then!  
  
'Come on, girl, just one little hug for your commanding officer?' Of course, the blasted armor would get in the way, but who was he to be choosy? She was so small, his one arm could circle around her waist and return back to reach his own chest. She came, he opened his arms to her, but she did not make a move to hug him. Why? The gang, but not him? It could be that she was shy of the higher ranking, hell, she had no problem hugging the Emperor!  
  
"You..." come on, hug me too! But all he got from her was an expectant smile  
  
"You fight good..." he finally managed. Was he so repulsive for her?  
  
"Oh..." there was a hint of disappointment in her voice. Well, he was disappointed too.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
'Real suave, Shang. What girl would be able to resist THIS approach'. But it was too late. She had mounted her steed, and was riding off the stairs.  
  
"The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all." said the emperor, who came to stand by his side, watching the retreating girl go.  
  
"Sir?..."  
  
what did he mean?  
  
The Emperor looked at him in annoyance, and decided to make it beyond plain for the young fool:  
  
"You do not meet a girl like that every dynasty!" he gave Shang another stern look.  
  
'Tell me about it, Your Majesty. You do not know the half of it.' Shang was sure a girl like this had never been born before, and will never come along again. And he would be damned if he let her slip through his fingers just like that! If the old and wise emperor believed that he had a chance with her, he would find that chance and would find a way to make it work. If Fa Zhou would request an adoption marriage, he would go for that, he would reject his own name. The Li family was one of the proudest families in the country, but Mulan made the Fa family outshine every noble clan that ever served the Emperor. If there ever was a girl worth fighting for, it was Mulan, and no price was too high.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He was riding through the country, springtime in the air, the warm spring breeze smelling as sweet as Mulan's hair. Her village was just a half-day away from the capital on horseback, a pleasant ride. He had learned the location of her house from Chi Fu, and Yao had brought him her helmet which was found somewhere around the palace. Now he had both reason and excuse to seek Mulan out. His mood was much better. He knew why she did not hug him. It was for the very same reason that he could not bring himself to hug her. It still might not be too late. He was very eligible; her parents should have no problems with a son-in-law from the Li family. No, it was not too late yet. 


	3. Tank's ending

Reflection in the sword by Ikuko  
  
Tank's ending  
  
So you all guessed, right? You know who the groom is? Now you've asked for it! The wrath of Ikuko is upon you!  
This is not a flame bait. This is a Tank's ending*. Technically, it's not even a part of the story  
  
"Tank's ending" is a tradition of a different fandom. It was named after the pioneer of the genre, Wilson Tank , a distinguished member of the "Lois and Clark" fanfiction community. Tank endings are very short fics, episode finales, or endings of author's or someone else's fanfics. They tend to contain as much death, destruction or mayhem as possible, but are most definitely not intended to be taken seriously. Traditionally they are placed in the reality of the original fic, but turn the events in the worst possible way.  
Don't tell me I did not warn you. And now, if you are brave enough, proceed.  
  
  
  
Shang was riding down the country road, deep in contemplation. Fa Zhou was polite but evasive, and did not give him a clear answer. Did he still have a chance? Why was there so much secrecy about Mulan's future? She told him that she actually loved him. He knew that he loved her. Why was it so complicated? There was no one who'd give him the answers… Shang was so deep in thought, he never heard the singing of the arrow in the air.  
  
Mulan was trembling on the large ceremonial bed. In a second, she will gather her strength, and look in the face of her destiny. She could do it. Just one more second…   
"Why, don't you want to see your new husband?" said a deep, disturbingly familiar voice. It could not be! Slowly, Mulan opened her eyes. The powerful chest wide shoulders of her husband were the first things she saw. He was so much taller than Mulan! She lifted her face to finally meet his eyes. The unforgettable face in front of her smiled in grim amusement. How was it possible! The shock was too much for the worn out girl. She swooned in the dead faint.   
He looked down on her sadly. She was so small, so young! So this was his prize! After years of preparation, rigorous training, months of exhausting military campaign, loss of his friends and nearly his own life, that was what General Shan-Yu was taking home with him. But it was worth everything, even the promise to the Emperor never to cross the Great Wall again. The old fool! He refused to bow to him in the palace, but was forced to surrender a more precious treasure. Who cared about China now! This girl was the greatest warrior that ever lived, equal to himself. The children born to him by this small woman will concur the empire greater than Roman, it will stretch from Yellow Sea to Mediterranean, and will last for a thousand years. Yes, the victory was his, even if Chinese did not know it.   
He was right not to succumb to the rage and desire of revenge when he found himself under the rumble of the palace tower. To engage the diplomatic means of persuading was much wiser. Chinese were too scared of the Huns to present much of the opposition to the offer he made: truce in exchange for the girl. Idiots! They never knew the true value of this woman. But he recognized it from the start: this was the only woman worthy to be a matriarch of the future conquerors of the world. The only real obstacle he had was that annoying captain; the fellow was clearly in love with the girl-soldier… It would be too cruel to make him suffer through her wedding. On the other hand, he did not deserve the honor of dying in the combat with Shan-Yu either. Yes, sending an archer was the best way to tie the loose end.   
The girl had the most admirable spirit. He'd enjoy breaking her. But he will be careful - she was to live and bring him many sons. The sooner she'd get used to it, the better. He glanced over her prone body again. It was not fitting for his wife to keel over. It was time to wake her up. He reached his dark hand with long claw-like nails to grasp the silk of the front of her dress and tear it off.  
  
  
So, there you have it. I will post the REAL finale as soon as I am done sulking in the corner. But you can try to coax me out of it with lots of nice reviews.   
By the way, the dreams of Shan-Yu came to be a historical fact. But it's beside the matter.  
  



	4. The Soldier and the Officer

OK, I am back. Here is your real conclusion. That Shan-Yu thing was a joke, you know, like in ha-ha? Shan-Yu is dead, D-E-D dead. And if he was alive, he is not so stupid as to marry Mulan - he would have to make an inventory of his own body parts every morning if he did.  
  
Part three. The soldier and the officer  
  
There it was, the village where Mulan grew up. Shang did not know what to expect, but he had this feeling as if he was going on the pilgrimage, and the place where Mulan lived should have mystery of a temple. But the village itself was very ordinary, dusty and busy. Carts rattled nosily down the narrow streets, people went on with their regular routines, as if they were not privileged to live by the side of the most incredible woman who ever existed.  
  
He asked a passer-by the way to the Fa house. The fellow squinted at Shang inquisitively, but pointed the direction with a knotty finger. There it was: a large house behind a solid wall, clearly one of the best in the village. There were two women at the gates, one demure middle-aged and one a pleasant old lady. Could they be from the same house? The first lady looked a lot like Mulan. Well, there is no better way than to ask.  
  
"Excuse me. Does Fa Mulan live here?"  
  
Both women looked dumb-stricken, and could only point silently inside the gates. Did he say anything wrong?  
  
"Wow, sign me up for the next war!" he heard the voice of the older lady.  
  
Yep, these women were definitely related to Mulan, and pertness ran in the family.  
  
He stepped through the gates and found himself in the most enchanting place. Just as he had imagined, a fairyland. All the bustle of the village was left behind, the whole place was overflowing with serenity. The arched bridge reflected in the old overgrown pond, the dark shapes of the old trees were rising from behind round inner gates. The house itself was a curious mix of a country retreat a house of a noble, elegant old-fashion architecture softened with the feel of the forgotten garden. There were ruins of the great stone dragon by the pond, as a reminder of the times long gone, and tempestuous bloom of the plum trees, greeting days to come.  
  
Her father was a very distinguished veteran, and met him graciously. Shang just began his well-rehearsed speech to "Honorable Fa Zhou" when he was stopped dead on his tracks by appearance of Mulan herself. Well, there went the speech. But the girl was a jewel. She did not mind his stuttering, and even invited him for dinner. Not that he could possibly eat with her so close to him.  
  
That was a quiet, restful place. The small shrine on the top of the hill was full of burial stones, a witness of many generations of Fa, noble clan that had no male heir left. But is did not transmit any sense of helpless sorrow, only a noble resignation and acceptance. There was a subtle feel of peace with the world and gentle care from everyone in the house. Pleasant dignified mother and delightful free-spirited grandma were as much part of the mansion as the pond and the shrine. That wonderful place was populated by so many strange beings. Little Brother, amusingly stupid puppy leading a platoon of industrious white hens. noble steed Khan, garden full of butterflies. No other place could bring to the world a girl as pure and precious as Mulan.  
  
He was a coward, he was. He positively escaped to her father's room after the dinner. He had an excuse, right? First of all, you ask the father for the hand of your girl. Actually, he was supposed to act through a matchmaker, but he had to be sure that Fa Zhou is on his side. After that, no breach of traditions whatsoever. He will go along with this entire circus, even if it'll kill him. If only his father was with him to see his old friend! Fa Zhou, white-templed and dignified, leaning on the cane, was glad to learn that the young captain was a son of his old comrade.  
  
Fa Zhou was a very understanding man. Though he did not have sons, he never even mentioned an adoption marriage. He long accepted that after his death, Fa clan will be extinct. Sad as it was, that was a relief for Shang. He himself was the last survivor of his family, and the only hope for the name to continue. He was prepared to go through adoption for Mulan, but this was so much better! The name of Li will survive, and the children would inherit the best of the two families.  
  
There was so much to discuss. Shang was the first to tell Fa Zhou about the death of his father - and to watch the old soldier's grief over the lost friend. It was the first time for Shang himself, to share his own pain with someone so close to his father. They were sitting in the darkness of the room, two men who just met, yet brought so close by the grief they shared over the death of one's father and the love they had for another's daughter.  
  
"I've lost a friend" said Fa Zhou at last "but I gained a son. Both your father and I will live in your children, Li Shang. I know your father was very proud of you. Take good care of my little girl."  
  
Fa Zhou even hinted that Mulan might not be indifferent to Shang! Well, he was entertaining that thought before, but had had considered it as a mix of narcissic presumption and wishful thinking on his part. Fa Zhou only smiled, amused by the obvious excitement of the young captain.  
  
They discussed all the details of the wedding, and agreed that in this case, when the bride had such an unusual choice of career, the traditions should not be neglected. There was only one draw back for Shang: he will not be able to see Mulan until she will enter his bedroom as his new wife. The only consolation was that the next time he will see her, it will be on his bed. And NO ARMOR!  
  
She was in the garden, waiting for him when he finished talking to her father. He knew he was not supposed to see her, he promised. but she was there! It took all his control to restrain his happiness, to tell her with due respect that he will honour her properly, as the custom requires. And she told him she loved him! Just like that, she told him. Soon, he thought. Just a few short weeks, and we will be together!  
  
He had something to sustain him through these difficult weeks. Fa Zhou told him the story how Mulan wanted to protect her father, how she stood by him, claiming that he already paid his duty to China. How she was put down, first by Chi Fu, then by her own father she was trying to protect. How the honourable Fa Zhou found a lotus comb in the place he put the emperors decree of summons to the army. It was too late to stop her then, Mulan was already gone to the face her destiny instead of the father that did not see a hero in the feminine form. He was devastated. They found the cut locks of hair on the floor of her room. His water sprite paid the price of honour in full, not sparing the pride of any girl, her thick silky hair.  
  
Fa Zhou saved the locks, hoping that his daughter will return one day. Now, he gave one of the locks to Shang, who was ready to beg for it on his knees. Shang had it, right on his breast, a lock of black silk that smelled like the hair of the small wounded soldier in the snowy mountains. He was pressing it to his heart, seeing in his mind desperate Mulan cutting her hair in one merciless slice of her father sword, rejecting her life, her nature, her femininity for the honour of her family. Her being a soldier did not bother him. He understood fully that it would not be quite a traditional marriage. His wife would also be his friend, so it's a two for one deal. At least he can keep up the superficial appearances of the usual, run-of-the-mill wedding. No one will be able to reproach his bride!  
  
Gods were smiling at Shang. The best friend he could wish for, the brightest mind, the purest soul and the bravest heart he had ever known were all united in the body of the prettiest girl he loved. And she loved him back! She said so herself. He had to steel himself against enormous joy he felt at her confession, or he would scoop her in his arms right there and then and take her away with him. She deserved better than that. Their wedding will be as proper as it can possibly be.  
  
He could not believe his luck. There were many men richer and of nobler blood than he was, and more decorated warriors. Yet, Fa Zhou accepted him as a son-in-law! And Mulan said she loved him. Mulan said she loved him!  
  
He could never imagine that he would be so gone on a girl. Of course, he wasn't the first man ever in love. He saw many infatuated friends, and was often amused how they idealized far from perfect girls. Intellectually he knew that no one, not even Mulan could be absolutely perfect. There must be something wrong with her. He'd just have to find it; then his infatuation would be under some semblance of the control.  
  
Let's see. Obviously, Mulan had no equal in courage, intelligence or honour, among women or men alike. That left only appearance. But she looked. He had to shut his eyes for a moment when a warm wave of affection welled inside him.  
  
All right, her appearance was not exactly what was considered as an epitome of classical beauty. For one, her skin was tanned. But surely, no Court maiden with her sickly pallor could compare with the golden glow of his little soldier. Well, she had these quaint round little ears that were sticking out in a funny way. After a moment's contemplation he was deeply convicted that he ALWAYS adored quaint little ears, all his life.  
  
There was also her pert attitude that was disagreeing with the traditional behavior of properly brought up young ladies. In all the honesty, he found it irresistible. Who was he kidding? He was a gone goose, and there was no hope for him whatsoever. May be later, when they'll be long-married, the power of the habit will soften his infatuation. Yeah. very possibly, say, in thirty or forty years. He'll be just fine. At the very least, he had an excuse. He was in love with the most extraordinary girl in China, he had a right to be as foolish as he wanted.  
  
He spent the night in the guesthouse in the near-by town. In the morning, he talked to the matchmaker and convinced her that it was in her best interests to be as compliant as possible.  
  
Matchmaker impressed him as a hostile, unpleasant fat woman, domineering and intimidating, sure that she knows everything there is to know. He could easily see why Mulan did not like her at all, and why matchmaker could never appreciate his little water sprite.  
  
Matchmaker actually tried to talk him out of his chosen bride. There were lots of more beautiful and proper girls, all too happy to marry a man like him. She went on and on, describing the numerous virtues of the potential brides. Out of politeness, he listened. But the longer she talked, the greater his astonishment grew: Mulan was fitting the description of an ideal girl better than anyone he knew. 'You are offering me girls that are graceful?' he was musing 'Lady, you haven't seen one water sprite I know. The proper girl must be polite refined and poised? I'd love to see how many of your perfect brides would not dishonor themselves in front of the Emperor. The beauty? Mulan was delicate as a flower, she was pretty without help of make-up. Modest? More than you know: she did not claim any credit for her deeds. Punctual? Have never seen a better timing than with that cannon on the Tang-Shao pass'.  
  
Mulan fit it all too well. He knew the Confucian scripture by heart, but now, from the lips of ludicrous village matchmaker, it was like a revelation, as if he heard it first time. Knowing Mulan gave a new, deeper meaning to the familiar words. Even when he already parted with defeated matchmaker, he kept reciting the words in his head  
  
"she is loyal without hypocrisy  
  
she is intelligent without intimidation,  
  
brave without boasting,  
  
gentle without condescending,  
  
Proud but not conceited,  
  
virtuous but not scornful,  
  
respectful but not adulating."  
  
'Yeah, I know: and I am in love beyond redemption.'  
  
You reject her because she fits your ideal too well. She is true. You are praising fakes. Fakes are more convenient, they do not expose your own weakness. The example of the true one is too demanding, it calls for everything best in us. She is a true woman, and she had shown me what does it mean to be a man.'  
  
He was grateful for the constant distraction of the many duties he had to accomplish for the wedding. He wrote all the accustomed letters, chuckling at the old-fashioned expressions he was expected to use. The matchmaker assured him that the whole deal would be accomplished as soon as possible.  
  
He returned home, and gave necessary orders for the ceremony preparation. There was still the business of the Emperor's permission that matchmaker requested, too. Luckily, the Emperor was delighted with the match, and gave his permission on the spot.  
  
However, some nobles were less impressed with his choice. Respectable matrons were eyeing him as a perspective match for their daughters, brainless, overdressed china dolls. They might have been very beautiful and polished, but he would give all the cultured, pale-faced lot of them for one witty quirk from his tan-skinned, bright-eyed little hero.  
  
Few days later he was back in the village, unable to stay away for too long. He knew he would not be able to see her, but being so close to her home was all he needed. To his surprise, he met the gang on the street the next day after his arrival. And they were not too happy to see him, too. In fact, for a moment he thought that Yao is going to practice his newly- learned fighting skills on his own coach. Thank goodness Chien-Po talked him out of it.  
  
The misunderstanding was resolved soon enough: they knew that Mulan was to be given away in the marriage, and thought that Shang betrayed their friend. Now that they learned the truth, they seemed to return their trust in Shang, Yao grouchily, Ling and Chien-Po happily. Still, it bothered Shang. How could it be that she had doubted him? Surely, Fa Zhou must have told her already who her suitor was. There must have been some mistake that misled the gang.  
  
They spent the evening together, in the small tavern, recalling the year of training and the short and tragic expedition. They left the village the very next day, determined to visit the temple that was the first object of their journey, but promised to return for the wedding. Funny how last year's unkempt soldiers turned out to become almost friends. Shang saw them go wistfully, until they disappeared in the dust, his headache the only reminder of the last night.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She was wrapped like a gift package in the layers of the red silk. He could not imagine that his golden-skinned Ping is somewhere inside this bangle. All in all, it looked pretty much like any bride he've seen, not that he was an expert. The thought that inside all this finery there is hidden his little friend, his lively, dark-eyed Mulan almost made him laugh. He could bet that everyone expected to have a pale faced refined beauty behind such an exterior. But Shang did not need that kind of a beauty. He was in love with her pure courageous heart, not her looks. Though the golden face with large dark eyes and innocently-sensual mouth did not hurt. Anyway, it was so silly that they tried to make her pretty for him. There was no silk so fine, or jade so precious to adorn the very incarnation of the spring, his little soldier Mulan.  
  
She was sitting by his side, so close during the ceremony. He could see her rigid posture, and the quiet tears she was shedding. They were rolling ceaselessly from under the scarf like jewels, not soaking into the expensive shimmering silk. Why was she in such a distress? Maybe she was grieving over parting with her family. They would visit often, it's not far, and he really liked her folks. He did not have any family of his own left; he'd be delighted to be accepted in hers.  
  
Finally, it was over. She was his wife! He could hardly believe it. A half an hour of meaningless ceremony, and this incredible girl was his wife! The whole thing looked so much like a simple transaction: 'one hero of China/water sprite combo to go, in the gift-wrap, please'. An here, she was his. No, she was not his by the sanction of the same people who proclaimed her unfit for marriage - she was his by the right of their love and the kinship of their souls. He only had to wait through the way home - their home now!  
  
Dusty road seemed endless; the trip was taking too long for the impatient Shang. She was right there, in the carriage, and stupid customs prevented him from seeing her, even saying a single word to her. He was never as happy to see his home as this time, when it appeared in the evening twilight. At last. Only a few more minutes, there were these bedroom customs to survive yet. The stupid scarf was hiding her face, no doubt blushing from the rude jokes his friends were showering them with. He will have to have a word with them later.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Sitting on the stranger's bed, Mulan prayed for the courage to open her eyes. Suddenly, she heard a whisper:  
  
"It's all right, Mulan. They are gone"  
  
Shang lifted the scarf. The face that under it... it could not be! Ivory skin, delicate features... a stunning beauty, but not his sun-kissed Ping! She lifts her eyes, and he finally recognized her.  
  
"Mulan? I never knew you are so... beautiful...Gods, you are so beautiful..." his water sprite had pulled another trick. Now she had looks that would shame the most famous Court beauty. "I could have married you for looks and never knew what a treasure you are..."  
  
Mulan did not know what to think. In the flickering light of the lamp she saw the last face she was expecting. He looked as astonished as she felt, stuttering words coming from his lips.  
  
"Shang?!"  
  
The next thing she knew was crying in his arms, wet face pressed to the side of his neck. He was murmuring some soothing nonsense to her, that neither of them could remember afterwards. There he was, in the flesh - miles of shoulder she had never hoped to see again, his amazing lips on her temples.  
  
"... Why did not you tell me?"  
  
"I thought you understand... Your father just gave me his blessing, I felt so honored... And then you came, and told me that you actually loved me! I could not believe my luck!" his voice was soft and laughing "The least I could do was to make the ceremony as perfect as possible, as tradition would have it. It was killing me not to see your sweet face for all these weeks... But the groom is not to see the bride until the wedding, I had to comply with the custom... It is over now, you are here, you are my wife..."  
  
She had never seen him this way. He was so open, so happy. Where was her stern captain, who barely ever spoke a dozen words in the row. He was like a boy on the New Year's day, eyes shining in anxious anticipation. Her tears were turning into giggly light-headedness now:  
  
"Gods... Do you know what you did to me? I thought you did not care for me, did not want to do anything with me! I thought I was marrying some old general, which was ORDERED to marry me! By the way, how come they told me I am to marry a general, and then they sneak in a mere captain? I feel cheated!"  
  
"Well, don't you see the regalia?" he turned for her benefit, demonstrating his new splendour. "as you see, I am a general. When the main army forces were destroyed by Shan-Yu, most of the officers were slain. I was the commanding officer of the troops that turned the war around. And I also got all the credit for the actions of that Ping boy, remember him? It is a long leap from captain to the general, but I happened to be the only one qualified to fill my father's shoes."  
  
His voice was laughing when he spoke, but she could see the hurt behind his eyes, and understood. She was not the only outcast in the room. Shang was treated as a young upstart by the other generals, who would never forgive him his brilliant victory, his lineage, his success, his blinding career. He did not speak much of it, but was grateful when she put a gentle hand on his cheek.  
  
"I did not know it when I left the capital to follow you. I knew that as a captain I did not cut the rank to marry the hero of China, so I applied for the special favour of the Emperor. By that time the decree of the promotion was already approved and signed. But I guess the Emperor enjoyed my grovelling for the permission to marry you. He had his fun, and then gave me the decree. He said that if I am smart enough to want to marry you, I am smart enough to be a general." She saw a lonely orphaned boy in the man who was always a symbol of strength for her, lost in the sneering world. So much pain, so much misunderstanding.  
  
"Just to think... all these weeks... living there, wanting to die, never hoping to see you again! the village... the rumours... You know what they were saying about me?! That I... soldiers..."  
  
"Shhh... I know, Mulan, I know. If only I was there, I would show the bastards I would never let anyone even think of you that way!"  
  
"Humphhh... as if they would believe you. They thought I was your mistress" she was desperately seeking some way to console him, to laugh the whole thing off.  
  
"What?! I had never touched you! You know I respected you too much for that!"  
  
"I know... Hey, what do you mean, you never touched me? Remember the beauty of a black eye you gave me in sparring?!"  
  
"I gave PING in sparring. And if my memory does not fail me, Ping was speedy at repayment. My jaw was tender for a week after that beautiful inside-out spinning crescent kick you landed"  
  
"And you... you lifted me off the ground by my shirt and shook me silly on my very first day in the camp! I was scared to death, you brut!"  
  
"I find it hard to believe. Ping I know and love was not intimidated by Shang-Yu, and you are saying that li'l ol me had scared you?"  
  
"Well, you looked at me so angrily... and your face was just inches away from mine..." she knew she was flirting now, but could not help herself: he was just too darn cute "...you were pulling on my collar... you lifted me off the ground, you brute... and I was just hanging there, praying..."  
  
"For what?" he was clearly amused. His smile dropped a notch when he recognized her grin. Ping was in the control of the situation again.  
  
"I WAS PRAYING THAT YOU WOULD NOT LOOK STRAIGHT DOWN, SILLY"  
  
It took him a few seconds to realize just what sight would greet him if he would do that. Ping's secret could be out right there and then, if he had only glanced down the opening of the robe he had pulled away so rudely from the chest of his little soldier. The deep red splashed in his face, to the infinite gratification of Mulan. But he cut his losses. He had a notion that it was in his power to turn the tables around. He may be missed his chance once, he was not going to do that again:  
  
"Now, let me see, you little tease... I was holding Ping like this..." her smile faded, and she gasped as he grasped handful of the silk of her robe in his hand "... and I was pulling like this... and..." her delicate silk robe was no match to the tough soldier's shirt she'd worn then. Of course, it came undone. And of course, His smug Excellency enjoyed it shamelessly. He looked down deliberately, just because he could, but his glance returned to her face. It was way more amusing to watch her shy blush. The time to admire the gentle curves he glimpsed at the lake will come soon enough.  
  
Playfulness was shed of as just another mask. The tension too great, the desire too devastating.  
  
"Shang, I... we... don't... well..." his nearness was overwhelming, and her voice trailed off. His face was very close and getting closer. Here it was - her moment of truth.  
  
He had lost his footing. Jokes were off. He was drowning. He felt unreasoning anger rising inside him: this girl turned his world up-side down, undermined his every conviction, reduced him to a lovelorn boy. All these months of struggle. This preposterous wedding. She was his wife - and he was lost again, powerless against a slip of a girl.  
  
His features were closed, taut as if in pain. He yanked her against his chest possessively, almost brutally. He did not need her permission, they both knew he had it for the long time. She tilted her face and met his kiss fully, as she would meet a deathblow. His mouth dropped on hers almost in rage, as if inflicting a wound.  
  
He felt her startle under his onslaught, but she did not pull back. He recognized her hesitation for what it was. Her first kiss. Ping's first kiss. He will never cease to marvel at her courage and the purity of her soul. Kiss was as heated as involved and as mutual as a spar. He was straggling for the remnants of control, afraid to scare her, but his hands seemed to have will of their own, moving over the lithe sweet body. He felt her hands tensing for a moment, her breath caught... and then she deepened the kiss, arching toward him, pressing her breast tighter in his palm.  
  
She was wrong. What she took for a pity, was most self-forgetting love she'd ever seen. No need for words. He was a proud man, she would not ask for cheap professions from him. It's enough that she knew in her heart. Let silly girls wrench words of love from admirers. All she ever needed to know was said in the warm dark eyes of Shang.  
  
She was wrong after all. The assumption that she'd be free from excessive attention of her husband did not stand. If the intense longing in his eyes was any indication, her commanding officer had a tight full-time schedule all planed out for her. It did not look like she'd be able to leave this room much earlier than by the New Year celebration. The funny thing, she did not mind a bit. Oh, well... he WAS her husband. The family honour... The hell with the family honour! This man was all she ever wanted, and she was out to make her mother proud!  
  
They finally pulled apart, stunned by the power of the kiss, but did not break the embrace.  
  
"You know what I lived through in these last months? I thought my family sold me to some old guy, Emperor gave his orders and washed his hands off, you forgotten me."  
  
"You think it was any easier for me, all this year? Seeing you, falling in love with the boy, despising myself for it. I thought I was a pervert! all this time that I dreamed of this. ever since I saw you as a boy. You know how hard it was - attempting to think of you only like of a younger brother."  
  
"Younger brother? You mean I can get out of these stupid threads and back in my boys clothes and you would not mind?" a friendly banter felt so much safer than the flood of emotion that threatened to drown her.  
  
"I am all for getting you out of these stupid threads, I am even willing to help as much as I can. But as for getting you in the boy's dress - or any dress for this matter - I would postpone it for later... Much later."  
  
"Oh, you are... you are..."  
  
"Your husband, Mulan" his eyes were warm, but his words made her shiver with sudden realization. The world "husband" hit her like a punch. The hated word she avoided thinking about for so long. The symbol of lost freedom, of caged submission. It did not really matter that she loved him so - she was no more than his property. His whenever he wished, without any right to her own body.  
  
He felt her stiffen in his embrace suddenly. Mulan, playful, happy Mulan has disappeared. In her place was Ping, but not the sweet boy Ping, it was Ping wary of a dangerous opponent, wary of potential betrayal. What? Oh, what had he said! 'No, I never meant it as a claim of ownership, I only wanted to say that there is nothing we should be ashamed of between us.' he thought desperately.  
  
Mulan was torn inside. He was her master, she belonged to him. She felt a desperate desire to submit fully to the man she loved, the thought of complete surrender to him made her weak with the pleasure.  
  
Yet, she felt betrayed somehow. It felt like a trap for both of them. Was it all he wanted from her? An obedient wife that was always ready to please him? Her insolent pride flared out. She straightened, holding the halves of her disordered dress together, and bowed to her husband. She was standing in front of stricken Shang, courteous and alert like a soldier ready to take orders.  
  
"yes, of course", she bowed low "What my master wishes?"  
  
Shang had already recovered from his guilt trip. Two could play this game. He stepped back, giving her a mocking look. She did not deign to notice. He moved around the room easily, tossing off the elaborate hat, perfectly at home. He took off the fancy general's garments, and bare-chested plopped comfortably on the bed.  
  
In contrast with his easy behaviour, her primness was becoming more and more ridiculous with every passing second. He was obviously refusing to take the bait. She stood up finally and crossed her arms in front of herself, pinning him with the glare.  
  
"Have you been testing me, my love?" He said it so openly, yet it startled her. His eyes were full of laughing understanding "you thought I won't have courage to tell it to you? Proper wives are dime a dozen. I love YOU, all that you are. You have as much power over me as I have over you. You own me as much as I do you. What does my mistress wishes?"  
  
She was fighting laughter down, and he continued:  
  
"Don't you see it? You taught me to be a man. You taught me to value a woman in you. I will accept nothing less. We both deserve better than relation between master and slave. I love to have a right to be with you, but it was not given by the stupid ceremony they just put us through. You gave that right to me that evening in your garden, when you said you loved me. That's what I want from you - love given freely, like China has given you its admiration."  
  
She felt humbled by his sincerity. She had hurt him. Shang was as much an outcast Mulan herself. He rejected the comfort of traditions, risked his honor for the soldier-wife. He just refused the right of the master that custom gave him. He did not want obedience from his wife.  
  
He denied her a shelter of helpless slavery, he redeemed her soul and sentenced her to the responsibility of the freedom. She was up to the challenge. A love for a love. They were equal. Her pride was his pride. 'You want a complete person, my love? I have nothing to hide from you. You have won. I will be yours more fully than if you'd accepted me as a slave.' She forced her stiff fingers to release the fabric of the dress, and with one brave movement of the shoulders let it slide to the floor.  
  
Shang's mocking smile replaced with awe of respect and admiration  
  
He stood up without noticing it himself. His eyes were glued to the small body of his wife, taking it in with one long, drinking glance. Such a brave girl. The sight of the straight fresh scar across the midriff hit him like a blow. Ha sank to his knees in front of her, seeing nothing but the narrow red line on the pale skin. Her courage flickered; hands flew up to cover herself, gesture so painfully familiar, just as on the lake.  
  
"Let me see... there is nothing to be ashamed of..."  
  
All disguises were off, all pretences down. No accustomed lies, no forced ardour, no playful bravado to hide the shyness. She was no longer dressed as a boy for him, nor as a bride. There was - just her, nothing but the smoothness of the skin between them.  
  
He knelt down to her, holding her close, face pressed to her small breasts, lips on the thin angry red scar from the sword of Shan-Yu. His whisper was muffled against her skin, mixing pride of the warrior and hurt of the lover.  
  
"The badge of the highest honour... to be able to kiss it was the greatest of the privileges for me... children carried under this mark will be blessed with the light of glory, boys or girls alike..."  
  
She let her knees bend under her, and slid down in his embrace, pressing her body tight against him. They were clinging to each other desperately, touch of comforting transforming into caress of passion. Two lonely souls that found each other in the world they would never fit in, two outcasts, proud and beautiful as gods, sad and wise as the mortal children they were.  
  
________________  
  
See, I am done. Well, I would never be able to do it without my great beta- reader Pooky, a.k.a. Lian-hua. All together now: THREE CHEERS FOR LIAN- HUA!!!. Ahhhh... I am feeling better now. Don't forget to leave a review - yes, I mean you.  
  
Ikuko 


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